


Resurrection Part III - Weaving Threads

by Annejackdanny



Series: Resurrection [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Adventure, Kid Fic, LittleDaniel, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annejackdanny/pseuds/Annejackdanny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See Part I of Resurrection, thank you</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weaving Threads

**Link to the lovely lovely podcast of Part III read by Tanis/iiiionly ...**

 

**[Resurrection Part III - Weaving Threads](https://www.dropbox.com/sh/ss4wkyb7u4aazqq/AACyt4WUIsBO1YR8hwpgmtTTa?dl=0) **

 

**Part III**

**Weaving Threads**

**When** you died, when you... ascended... He never got over that, you know? It was as though a part of him died with you. He was never the same man after you left.

**I**

“Like this, yeah. Move your arms and legs, don't stop.” Jack loosened his hold on Danny without letting go.

“I... used... to... whoops...” He swallowed water and started spluttering and coughing.

Jack scooped him up and gently clapped the kid's back until he stopped spitting. “No talking, remember? You're a fish. Fish don't talk.”

The fish wriggled and giggled. “Lemme down, Jack, lemme down!”

Jack eased him back into the water, hands securely around his middle to keep him steady. “Arms and legs,” he ordered.

“I'm a … fish... I have finsssss...” He spluttered again, but didn't cough, just spouted a fountain of water and laughed, which caused him to swallow more.

“Oy, Danny... keep that up and you'll end up with all the ocean in your belly.”

More laughter, more spluttering. Jack pulled him out and settled him on his hip again. “You're a babble-fish.”

“It's fu-un!”

“Funny you didn't think that yesterday in the showers,” Jack said dryly.

“That was yucky. Soap itched and burned.” Danny cocked his head. “Do we have to do that again?”

“Not today,” Jack said quickly. “You ready to try this again?”

A wild, enthusiastic nod was the answer and a moment later Danny picked up the arms and legs movements again. But he was too excited or too impatient – Jack couldn't tell which – and all he managed was splashing a lot of saltwater all over them in the process.

Squealing and chortling and swallowing more water, Danny almost slippedfrom his grip and went under for a moment. When his head popped up again and Jack asked him if he was okay, he just laughed.

It was early and the beach was deserted except for a couple of gulls stalking around, looking for food. The ocean was warm and cuddly like a kitten, perfect for a morning swim. Danny had been thrilled about the suggestion and couldn't get into the water fast enough. But as soon as it turned out that he couldn't swim he'd been pretty upset and the day had almost started with tears.

“I'll teach you, it's no big deal,” Jack had tried to nip the looming outburst in the bud.

Danny had stared at him, tears pooling in the corners of his wide eyes. “You will? Right now?”

The things one did to keep kids happy... “Yeasureyabetcha. You'll know how to do it in no time.”

Tears and sorrow forgotten immediately, Danny had been all eager and enthusiastic. Jack had showed him the motions and the kid had nodded and said, “I know how to do it. I just forgot _how_ to do it.”

Jack had interpreted that as; someone showed me before but I forgot. Which was a bit strange. He'd always thought once you learned how to swim you never just 'forgot' it. But strange seemed to be this little guy's middle name at times, so he'd just shrugged it off.

So, here they were, trying to make a fish out of Danny. Or to find Danny's inner fish. The water reached Jack's waist, but right now he felt like he was inside a waterfall.

“Whoa, slow down, slow down!” He laughed and slid into the water, pulling Danny into his arms. “Let's try something different, okay? Put your hands on my shoulders. Yeah, like that. Don't let go.” Jack slowly turned on his back and let himself float with Danny on top of him, small fingers digging into his shoulders. “Now move your back fins like you're a dolphin. But slowly. Breathe in, move, breathe out. Look at me, yeah, like that.”

“In...” Danny kicked his legs. “Out...” He blew warm breath and a bit of spittle into Jack's face.

“Yeah, keep doing that. Slowly. All right. Let the water carry you.”

Danny nodded, suddenly very serious and focused. When they reached deeper water, Jack put his hands back around Danny's middle to keep him from going under. “Don't let go. And keep the legs moving.”

Jack's feet found the sandy ground and he stood. The water reached his neck now. He started walking backwards. Danny followed, hands still on Jack's shoulders, legs kicking steadily now.

Suddenly his face lit up and he exclaimed. “I remember now, I remember!” He let go of Jack's shoulders and if his hands hadn't been around Danny's middle, the kid would have slipped away like an eel.

“I can swim, I can swim,” he screeched with delight.

“Keep it up, you're doing great,” Jack praised.

He watched closely to make sure the kid really had the movements coordinated right. Then they pulled back to where the water was less deep and finally Jack let go. At first Danny started paddling like a puppy who'd fallen into a lake, but he regained control of his body quickly. He swam a circle around Jack, he even managed to keep his head out of the water for the most part. Another circle and another and then he took off like a small missile.

Jack quickly caught up, staying close by to be able to grab him should he lose the momentum again. But, apparently, once he'd remembered how to do it, Danny had found his inner fish for good.

Soon he was diving and rolling around in the water like he'd been born there.

Finally Jack settled the fish on his shoulders and waded back to the shore.

“Ohhh, not yet, please,” Danny pleaded.

“What, aren't you hungry?”

“Noooo, yeeesss... but I wanna stay in the water, too.”

“Hmmm, then you'll have raw fish for breakfast. 'Cause it's the only thing you can eat if you want to stay in the water. Or seaweed and shells.”

“Eeeww!”

“There ya go.” He started jogging across the sand and through the dunes until they reached Viktor's booth, which was now their booth for the time being. Jack put Danny on his feet and snatched the towel from where it had hung on the door handle.

“What are we gonna do today, Jack?” Danny asked while Jack dried him off.

“First breakfast. Then you need some clothes, I guess. We'll go back to Masala and see if we can find something your size.”

“Are you going to leave me there?” Danny asked quietly.

Jack gave the blond head a last quick rub and then used the towel for himself even though it was already pretty damp. He'd been thinking about leaving Danny with Masala for a couple of hours. He'd been thinking about trying to find someone to take the kid in for good, too. But he didn't know anyone who'd welcome another mouth to feed just like that. Even though Danny was an amicable little guy and seemed to wrap everyone around his little finger. Including Jack's potential customers.

“Jack?” Danny's timid voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

 _Aw, what the heck..._ “I can't leave you there. We've got work to do. I need my best barker with me at the beach.”

“Yes, you do!” Danny beamed at him, relief all over his face.

Jack suppressed a sigh and forced out a grin. He knew, the longer he let this go on, the harder it would be for both of them to say goodbye.

 _It's just until I find a permanent solution,_ he told himself. _I can't just dump him on someone like that._

Once they were both dressed Jack locked the booth and they took off to the Lance. They hiked down the cobbled boardwalk with the ocean to their left and the hotels on the right. Groomed hedges and palm trees framed the driveways and gardens. There weren't any tourists underway this time of day. Just mule wagons laden with deliveries for the hotels.

At first Jack held Danny's hand, but once they'd left the traffic behind and it was mostly just the two of them he let the kid skip ahead a bit. Danny hopped from one foot to the other, his orange sun cap bouncing on his head.

They left the last hotel behind and passed by a couple of fancy restaurants before the boardwalk turned into the market road leading to the heart of Ba'th with its many shops and more restaurants.

To their left was the Lance Beach now, taking a wide curve where the Lance itself jutted into the water. Remembering the bug's tendency to wander off, Jack cajoled Danny to ride on his shoulders once they entered the town's busy streets.

“This is even better than Thor,” Danny decided once he was up there. He playfully tugged at Jack's hair. “You can be my mule now.”

“Yesterday I was a squire, today I'm a mule,” Jack complained. “Somehow I feel downgraded.”

“Ohhh, can we see Mania today? Can we?” Danny bounced up and down and Jack grabbed his legs to keep him from toppling over.

“Whoa! Stop that. Be gentle with your mule or it might buck ya off.”

“Sorry, Jack, but can we see Mania?”

“I don't know what she's up to today, but we have to give her back the princess crown so we'll look out for her.”

Jack stopped at a felafel booth and bought a large portion. Danny sniffed approvingly and bent over Jack's shoulder to have a better look.

“Aaaht! Stay upright. You can have some in a minute.”

“What is it? It smells good!”

“It's felafel in bread.”

“Oh! I had that when I was a kid,” Danny exclaimed. “In Egypt.”

“When you were a kid,” Jack said dryly. “Of course that probably was about a hundred years ago, eh?”

“Thirty years or so,” Danny said lightly.

Little kids and numbers... a million or a dozen, didn't make much difference to them. They reached a bench with view on the Lance beach and Jack placed the food bag on it before he put Danny on his feet.

“Remember to be careful, it's hot,” he warned when they sat down.

Danny patiently waited for him to blow over the fried little balls.

“There's chick peas in felafel and beans and garlic and onions.” The kid sniggered. “It gives you gas if you eat too many, yanno.”

“Oh, yeah. Lots of gas. Here, dig in.”

They ate the felafel with their fingers, dipping them into the creamy, mildly spiced, red sauce at the bottom of the hollow pita bread. There were slices of tomato, too, and Jack helped Danny fish them out of the bread without making a mess.

“Yummy,” Danny exclaimed. “It's funny. I never cared much for food before. I really like it now. Prob'ly 'cuz I missed eating it.” He patted his belly.

Jack looked down his nose at the urchin. There it was again – before. Before what? And did he want to know?

Nope, probably not.

Like a dark cloud moving in front of the sun, last night's nightmare came back to him and he suppressed a shudder. He'd seen those eyes before. The eyes of the man Danny had become. Had seen those eyes boring into him exactly like he'd dreamed it. He remembered the haunted look in them, the sadness, the regret.

 _Daniel's eyes._ The thought was suddenly there, sticking out like that black monolith at the ruins. Those were Daniel's eyes.

_Daniel._

_Danny._

He closed his fist hard around the paper bag, squishing the remainder of the bread between clenching fingers.

“Jack?”

He forced his body to relax and opened his hand, grimacing at the mush of paper, bread, sauce and what used to be a tomato slice all over his palm and fingers. Danny clambered to his knees and then stood on the bench beside Jack. He reached out a small hand and Jack quickly grabbed it with his own; the one that wasn't covered in gooey food.

“Don't.”

“You need to remember,” Danny said softly.

“We need to get going,” Jack said stiffly and stood.

“Can you carry me, please?” Innocent blue eyes gazed at him.

“No more with the touching stuff,” Jack warned, voice gruff and foreign in his own ears. “Whatever you're doing when you're doing what... you're doing. Just - don't.”

“But you were remembering something. I could feel it,” Danny insisted. “What was it?”

“I remembered we have to buy you clothes, that's all,” Jack said. He clumsily extracted a not overly clean wad of paper tissues from his pants and wiped the goo from his hand, then tossed them into the trashcan next to the bench. Using the wonderful magic of distraction he settled Danny on his hip and asked, “What's your favorite color?”

“Ohhh. I love alllll colors, 'cept of black, but that's no real color.”

“So what kind of shirt do you want? Blue? Red? Peridot?”

Danny laughed. “Peridot! That's your favorite color.”

“Yeah? How'd you know?”

“Orange,” Danny said instead of an answer. “I want my shirt to match my cap. And orange is real bright and fun!”

“Orange it is.”

“Pumpkin-orange or sunset-orange or orange-orange or poppy-orange... what other things are orange, Jack?”

Ahhh, yes, distraction. Great tactic.

“Orange juice, carrots and some butterflies are orange, too,” Jack said. “What about your pants? Any favorite color for them?”

“Green,” came the quick reply.

“Green like the grass? Or like peas? Olive-green? Moss-green?”

“BDU green,” Danny said.

“Huh?”

“Like your pants.” Danny pointed down at Jack's ratty green pants. The ones he should get rid off because they were really falling apart.

“Oh-kay. Let's see if we can dress you up.”

 *******

An hour later Jack's new sidekick was dressed in a pumpkin-colored t-shirt matching his sun cap and olive-green pants. Masala had given them a special price, which was helpful. Jack had offered to buy Danny shoes, but that had been frowned upon and so he hadn't bothered to push it. Shoes were expensive after all and little kids grew out of them too quickly anyway. They might have to purchase shoes when winter came, though.

If Danny was still with him then.

Crap, that was a weird thought. Because if Danny was still with him then Jack was probably stuck with him for good.

He'd better save up some more money.

For now they were content with underwear, shirt and pants. Masala had crooned and smiled, telling Danny what a pretty little man he was. Danny had informed her he didn't want to be pretty, he wanted to be cool. Like Jack. Pretty was for girls.

So Danny was looking all cool and manly now. Pumpkin-color-cool.

They left the bazaar and took a detour to the Lance where Jack bought two large bottles of drinking water, a loaf of bread and a summer sausage at a local store.

“What's a summer sausage? Does it only taste good in summer?” Danny asked as they were heading back to the beach.

“It's a sausage that won't turn bad even if you don't keep it at a cool place,” Jack explained. “It's smoked beef and it'll be good for a long time.”

Satisfied with that, Danny – who was riding on Jack's shoulders again – turned his attention to other things like how blue the ocean was and how he loved the sunshine and the beach and that he used to live in a desert with lots and lots and LOTS of sand but no ocean.

Jack found himself smiling and nodding his head and generally enjoying the sunshine, the blue ocean and the chatter.

They returned to the booth where Jack tied his bundles and blankets together. Danny wanted to help so Jack let him carry all those necklaces again and they went to find a good place by the promenade.

They were out early today and took their time setting everything up for their beach sale.

Tourists with little kids usually came out in the morning, either because the kids whined loud enough about wanting to go to the beach or because parents wanted to claim the best sun lounges for the day. So it didn't take long before families passed by and kids were pleading for, or demanding, souvenirs. The girls wanted necklaces, the boys went for the small clay animals. The mamas and dadas rolled their eyes, trying to drag their kids away, promising to buy something later.

Jack did his usual, 'We'll only have these lovely figurines for low prices this morning' and 'Everything has to go – no guarantee there'll be anything left later' thing. Danny let the girls touch the necklaces he was wearing and made puppy dog eyes at the mamas, telling them their daughters would look soooo pretty with one of them. Mamas' hearts melted and necklaces or clay figures were handed out to several families.

And so it began.

Danny was good. Jack had to give him that. He did his little jiggly-jig and yelling out to people, waving his arms and cajoling them into coming over to take a look. But he never got too intrusive, never too brash. He was all smiles and bounces and gentleman-like.

And they all loved him. It was almost as if the kid had been doing this all his life. Talking people into buying stuff, flirting with the audience in a natural, innocent way. Like yesterday, Jack felt a bit enchanted – and he'd bet he wasn't the only one.

Feeling he had to add his own bit of keeping the crowd interested Jack started juggling a set of small beach tennis balls that were on sale. He didn't have many of them left, just four or five, but that was enough to put on a show and soon one ball after another went to a new owner.

Around noon the trickle of tourists passing by on their way to the beach had come to a halt and Danny had exhausted himself enough to lay curled up on the blanket next to Jack, thumb firmly in mouth, and sound asleep.

Jack counted his money and let out a low whistle. This wasn't bad. Not bad at all for the time of year. He decided to go to the barn tomorrow to make a last batch of new clay figures and bowls. The hotels would close in two weeks, but if he came back here every day they could sell enough stuff to...

“You are a man of many professions, aren't you?”

Jack squinted up against the sun and was presented with long legs in black shorts and a white sleeveless shirt. “You stalking me or something?”

A green rolled-up towel was waved at him. “I wanted to take a swim. My hotel is right over there.” A thumb pointed back over a well-tanned shoulder.

“Won't that ruin your hair?” The Mohawk was neon blue today. What the hell did the guy use to dye his hair?

Mohawk shrugged. “It's easily mended.”

They exchanged an assessing look and Jack pulled his shades from the top of his head to cover his eyes from the sunlight. Or to hide whatever Mohawk might see in them. After a moment he asked, “You wanna buy a necklace? Or a clay figure? I've got some jugs too, there.”

“Did you make these?” Mohawk bent and picked up a carafe. There was a youthful sparkle in his gray eyes. And Jack could smell some expensive soap on him. Something like lemon and herbs.

“Yep. All hand crafted, each one unique.”

“This is nice work. Is there anything you can't do?” Mohawk gave him a teasing grin.

 _Wanna find out?_ “You want to buy it or not?”

“Not now. I was going to swim, remember? And no one's with me to keep an eye on this if I leave it on my sun lounge.”

“Too bad. I'll be here for a while though,” Jack said.

“Is that an offer to...” Mohawk trailed off and raised his eyebrows. “Hey, who's your small friend?”

Putting a gentle hand on Danny's back, Jack said, “My new working partner.”

Mohawk nodded as if it was a total normal thing to have a working partner this small. “Is he your...”

“No. He's...” Jack pursed his lips, not sure what to say. Finally he went with, “He fell from the sky. Now he's with me.” If Mohawk thought that was weird, Jack didn't care.

“Interesting,” was all the other man said. Then he abruptly changed the subject. “Do you know a good drinking place? Not the fancy, boring places. Something more down to earth. Where the locals go.”

“The upper class locals or lowly locals like me?” Jack asked with a smirk.

“I like lowly,” Mohawk said, straight-faced. “Lowly is good.”

“A tourist in a local bar, eh? Should be interesting.”

“Are you going to give me directions or do I have to search the whole Lance for you?”

That somewhat direct approach almost blindsided Jack. Just almost. He was grateful for the sun glasses. “Thought you were just looking for a place to drink.”

“Is that you telling me I have to drink on my own?”...

“ _Is that you telling me to fuck off and never mention it again?”..._

...Jack felt his whole body go rigid at the voice from the past lancing his mind. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a second and quickly busied himself with adjusting the sun cap on Danny's head. His throat had gone dry and his hands wanted to tremble, but he refused to give in to that.

He said lightly, “There're drinking holes at the Lance, by the water. Not the beach side.”

“That's... vague,” Mohawk said, cocking his head to the left and giving Jack a curious look.

“Yep.”

“Right. I'll...” He waved at the rolling sea in the distance behind Jack.

“Have fun,” Jack said, smiling.

He let Mohawk walk away and waited until he heard the man's sandals slapping on the wooden planks leading down to the water. Then, without turning his head, he called after him. “Ask for The Lance Fountain.”


	2. Resurrection Part III - Weaving Threads II

**II**

“Samantha!”

She looked up from the purple rosebush she was admiring. “I'll be right with you, Jadah.”

Sam brushed her thumb tenderly over the velvet petals, whispering a soft farewell. She gathered her basket, the secateurs and her working gloves, and left the rose garden, breathing in the heavy, enchanting scent of the purple, white and yellow blooms. She loved the rose garden with its various colors and the butterflies and ladybugs it attracted. She could spend hours with pruning, watering or just looking at the plants.

However, she didn't have time to indulge herself with the roses all day. Jadah needed her and Sam wanted to spend as much time with her as possible in whatever time they had left together. Today was their resting day. No patients to deal with and no customers coming in to pick flowers or herbs. It was a day of quiet they both enjoyed once a week – unless there was an emergency to take care off.

Sam entered the whitewashed house through the blue painted back door, leaving her green garden boots by the step. The coolness of the kitchen embraced her and she realized only now how hot it already was outside. The thick stone walls kept the heat out in the summer and in the winter they kept the warmth from the fireplaces inside. Bright light fell through the large windows onto the polished work counters and the birch wood shelves with the jars, bowls and mortars.

The large table dominating the room was still scattered with pots, small bags of seeds and potting soil. She had spent all morning putting in fall herb seeds. Once the first small tops of green broke through, these pots would go into the greenhouse. Most of the summer herbs were going to die or retreat back into the earth when winter came. But some she could continue to nurture in the greenhouse and some plants only grew during the colder seasons.

Sam hurried to the sink with the attached pump and grabbed a glass from the counter. She filled it with crystal-clear, cold water and gulped it down, almost hearing Jadah scolding her for drinking too hastily.

She smiled sadly at the thought of how soon she might have to leave. She had been dreading that day all summer long. And now, according to Jadah, it grew closer and closer and could no longer be ignored.

“Sam?”

“Coming, Jadah, coming.” She placed the glass in the stone sink and left the kitchen. A small corridor led into the family room and there, by the open french doors in the old rocker was Jadah, softly swaying back and forth. Some of the white pigeons were outside on the deck, picking for the sunflower seeds Sam had spread there earlier. Jadah loved her pigeons. Each one had a name and was treated, like every living being around the house, with tender care.

Jadah looked up and smiled warmly. “There you are.”

“Do you need anything? Tea? Or warm milk with honey?” Jadah loved to sip hot beverages when she was in her rocker.

“No, sweetheart, thank you. I would like you to go upstairs and bring down the black book. The one in my dresser.”

Sam felt a chill crawling up her spine. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm quite sure. It is time.” Jadah's violet eyes in the lined, yet still somehow youthful, face, were soft and knowing.

Sam nodded sagely. “I'll be right back then.”

The flight of narrow stairs leading to the bedrooms seemed a mountain high. She bit her lip and straightened up. This was ridiculous. It was just a book filled with herbal drug recipes. A book handed down from mothers to daughters. In this case from mentor to apprentice. Even though Jadah was family for Sam. She had no other family left.

That Jadah had taken her in as an apprentice seemed more than just luck. It almost felt like it was meant to be. Jada thought so, anyway.

 _She is going to make me her heiress_ , Sam reminded herself with unease, remembering how Jadah had put it into words. “You will be the carrier of my legacy, dear girl. I can sense it in you. You are the daughter I never had.”

Jadah had smiled and Sam had sensed a faint sadness in her mentor for she had never born children of her own. But it was an old scar, just a lingering of melancholy about something the old woman had lived with most of her adult life and gotten used to.

“You were heaven-sent, Samantha. The first time we met I knew you were meant to receive all I know. There is something about you that calls to me.”

Sam had felt honored and strangely afraid at the same time. But overall she had been grateful for the shelter Jadah had offered; the friendship and trust. Sam hadn't felt like she belonged anywhere before she'd met Jadah.

Back in winter, she had been on the road for a while, looking for a new start, a place to settle down, a new meaning in her life. She had left Madinah City with no plans or traveling route. She had woken one morning in her small, bleak apartment on the third floor and felt constricted. Like she couldn't breathe. Her life had been meaningless, empty and dull. On a whim she had called university and canceled all her engineering classes. She had packed a couple of necessities and left.

Just like that. And she had been very proud of herself even though it had been a foolish thing to do. An irrational choice. Sam usually didn't make irrational choices like this. But it had been her decision and she had never regretted it.

In hindsight she sometimes wondered if Jadah had been waiting for her, here, in this house with the fields of flowers and herbs surrounding it. If, maybe, Jadah had called her somehow and guided her here. Of course that was nonsense.

Unlike her mentor, Sam didn't believe in spiritualism. She believed in science, in the physics of things. There was an explanation for everything. Not knowing how something worked didn't make it magical. It only meant she hadn't learned the mechanics or chemistry behind it, yet.

Jadah, however, believed in the power of dreams as much as in the science of plants. Many of her customers told her about their dreams and valued her opinion. Jadah had wanted to teach her the art of dream-reading, but Sam couldn't bring herself to believe in it. The practical ways of becoming a healer were much more appealing to her.

Until her journey had come to an end at Jadah's refuge one cold night early in the year she hadn't been aware that vegetation had its own physics. Jadah had taught her all about plants and how they worked in combination with other essences and the human body.

Sam had studied and soaked up this new science like a sponge. But even more so had she realized that she had come home. She’d lived here for seven months now, but it already felt like she had never lived elsewhere.

Jadah had become her family. Sam couldn't remember her own grandmother at all. Or her mother. Mama died when she had been a toddler and her father had died in his service for the Armed Forces several years ago.

She was in Jadah's bedroom now.

The scent of lavender was heavy in here. A dried bouquet hung on the wall and several freshly cut bunches were in the vases on the windowsill.

She crossed the room and stopped in front of the small pinewood dresser. The black book was in one of the cupboards inside. She had found it weeks ago when she put away laundry. She hadn't opened it, but asked Jadah about it later, wondering if it was a diary. The journal was leather bound and very old. The cover and binding were brittle and thumbed.

 _Antique_ , Sam thought as she opened the dresser. The door creaked on its hinges.

“A diary?” Jadah had said in answer to her question and smiled mystically. “You could call it that, I suppose. It holds drug formulas handed down from mothers to daughters for generations.”

“What kind of drugs?” Sam had asked.

“You will know soon enough. When the time has come to reveal them to you, I will.”

Apparently today the time had come.

Sam opened the cupboard and retrieved the book. It seemed to be a breathing, living thing in her hands, not just an old journal. To her own surprise and dismay she was afraid of it. Of what it might contain.

 _Don't be stupid,_ she chided herself. _It's a book, nothing more. It might hold some dark ancient formulas, but that's all there's to it. You're just anxious because Jadah wants you to do something. She wants you to leave. Soon. And she hasn't explained why or where you are supposed to go, yet._

Somehow everything was linked to this book.

She closed the dresser and gently hugged the journal to her chest. Whatever it was Jadah wanted to teach her, Sam would do her best to live up to the expectations set for her.

Jadah was still in the rocker. Her long, thick braid hung over her shoulder, almost reaching to her lap where Sam put the book now. Delicate hands brushed over the cover. “You know, I changed my mind, dear. Why don't you brew us a cup of tea before we open this old dusty thing?”

“Of course.” She bent and kissed the cool silky brow, a surge of affection and love flaring up and tightening her chest.

In the kitchen she got the matches, prepared the stove and opened the door to light a fire with the wood and paper still in it. Sometimes she wished there was a better way of cooking than this. In her apartment she used to have a gas stove, which was a lot less work and much cleaner. She just had to open the vent, put a match to the gas and she'd been able to regulate the heat with just a couple of switches. The gas had come from a big tank in the basement of the building she'd lived in.

The wood stove seemed kind of antique compared to that. But life outside the big cities was like this, she guessed.

Once the stove was hot, she put a kettle of water on to boil and then busied herself with picking the dried herbs for tea. Lavender, yarrow, rose hips, marjoram. Everything was neatly stored away in glasses, jars and small pots on the sill. Herbs for teas and medications on this shelf, ingredients for ointments and creams on another shelf. Bandages and oat heat packs in the pantry, separated from the stored food of course.

Sam loved the strict order, the simplicity of structure; how it was so easy to find anything you needed right away once you knew the system.

She watched the water as it started to boil. A tiny vortex seemed to manifest itself in the glass kettle right before the bubbles started to rise.

It reminded her of a dream she seemed to have quite frequently. A huge puddle of water swooshing from a great stone ring. Sirens going off. Very strange dream. There was more to it, but it wasn't important anyway. Even though Jadah might not agree - it was just a dream. One among many.

She added the leaves to the water and turned the stove down.

As she took two mugs from a cupboard her thoughts returned to Jadah and the conversation they'd had way back when the roses and the spring flowers had still been budding. They had weeded the flower fields together. It had rained the night before. Sam remembered how rich and damp the soil had been, how easily they could pull the weeds.

At one point Jadah had taken a deep breath and looked up at the cloudy sky. “When summer is drawing to an end you will have to leave.”...

  
  


...Sam stopped extracting daffodils. “Jadah?” 

“It will be the time to send you on your journey, dear.”

She stomped down a flutter of panic then. “But... why? Did I offend you in any way? Have I let you down? Why would you want me to leave?” 

Jadah's eyes shone bright and intense as she looked at Sam. “Oh, dearie, you have done nothing wrong. On the contrary, you have exceeded my wildest expectations. That is exactly why you must leave.” 

“I don't understand. What do you want me to do?” Sam didn't want to leave. She had just found a home here, maybe the first real home in her life. 

Jadah cupped her face with one smudged hand. “Don't be afraid. Your home will always be here if you wish it to be. After you have accomplished your mission. We will talk about this later.”

They weeded on for a while, the pile of daffodils and nettles growing in their baskets. The rabbits would be very pleased about the daffodil leaves. The nettles made good tea and bathing essence. 

After a while she wasn't able to curb her curiosity any longer. “Jadah, where exactly do you want me to go?”

“All in time, Sammy, all in time. Let's focus on our work now.”

And with that the conversation was over.... 

  
  


...Sam poured the tea through a sieve, added some powdered ginger and a bit of syrup to sweeten it and carefully carried the mugs back into the family room where Jadah had vacated the rocker and was now at the round table in the corner, the book open in front of her.

“Sit with me, Samantha,” she said, then sniffed approvingly. “Lavender, yarrow and rose hips. Ginger and syrup. A very good choice.”

“Two parts marjoram,” Sam added with a grin as she placed the mugs on the table.

“Ahhh, of course.”

They sipped their tea in silence for a moment, but Sam's eyes kept straying to the book.

Handwriting in black ink. Something that looked like formulas and notes and drawings of plants. She put her mug down and leaned forward to have a better look. “Jadah... what exactly is in this journal?”

“Generations of experimenting with a very powerful drug,” Jadah said. “And a family secret we do not speak about except to our closest relatives.”

She folded her small long-fingered hands over the journal and when her eyes locked with Sam's they seemed to become darker, deeper. “The mother of my great grandfather, her name was Jelica, was a very powerful healer. She knew every herb, every flower, every plant on Ba'th. She lived in a hut deep in the woods. People of near and far sought her knowledge and asked her to heal their ills. She could have been wealthy for she was paid well by those who could afford it. But she only ever took what she needed and stayed in the woods where the fauna was rich and untamed.”

Jadah took a sip of her tea and continued. “One day Jelica was called to a monastery not far from her house. It was the refuge of the Sinners.”

Sam let out a small huff. “The Army of the Sinners? But, Jadah, that's a myth, nothing more.”

“So it is said. However, Jelica saw it with her own eyes. And even more so, she met one of them. They called her to deliver a tincture for one of the monks who suffered from digestive issues. As she headed out after treating the monk, a man suddenly stood before her. They both startled and the man said he hadn't seen a woman in many years. Jelica was immediately mesmerized by his deep voice and, of course, his well sculptured body. It is said that he had skin of olive and a strong build. That he looked like he had been molded by the hand of the gods. That's what Jelica wrote in her journal.”

Jadah patted the black book gently. “It is all in here.”

“She fell in love with him,” Sam guessed.

“Yes, oh, yes. Quite madly in love she fell. And he fell in love with her. Sadly, he was a Sinner. But he was a young one and his snake hadn't yet reached the stage of maturity. He wasn't allowed to speak or interact with anyone outside the monastery for he was marked with the sin. They met in secret for many weeks. He let her inside through a back entrance and they spent time together in a secret chamber underground. No one could know.”

“Oh, that's... sad.”

“Jelica asked to see the snake and he showed it to her. It was nestled into a pouch in his belly with slits in the skin. He could force it to show itself for a little while before it had to retreat back into its pouch for it could not live outside it. If the snake was taken out or matured it was to die. And so was he.”

“That's the legend anyway,” Sam said, but something inside her stirred like a sleeping dog. She had never given the old legends much thought. Yet, some of what Jadah described to her seemed vaguely familiar. She had probably learned about it in school.

“Jelica loved him so much, she vowed to find a way of ridding him off his snake and make it so that he would still live. In the meantime he was forced to meditate more and more frequently for longer and longer periods of time.”

“Kel'no'reem,” Sam said. The word was suddenly there, jumping out at her. “The meditation is called kel'no'reem. I must have read it somewhere.”

For some reason Jadah smiled as she continued. “Due to the meditation and a special diet the snake...”

“Symbiote.”

Jadah raised her eyebrows. “Symbiote?”

“The... the snake. It has a symbiosis with its host... the Sinner's body. It provides them with health and a long life and, in return, uses their bodies like a womb. That's a symbiosis. So... symbiote seems more adequate than snake,” Sam explained.

“Of course, yes. The... symbiote... grew faster now and Jelica was obsessed with the idea of freeing her love off it. She began experimenting with plants that are supposed to reinforce and support the immune system because the symbiote had taken that away from him.”

“How did she know she was making progress?” Sam asked, against her will intrigued by the story.

“She took the... symbiote... out of his belly for short periods of times as she was giving him teas and other digestive fluids. The symbiote weakened significantly during those times when it was out of the body, but so did the man and she always had to put it back into him. But one day the period of time he could last without the snake was longer than usual. She had found something to sustain him. For a while.” Jadah tapped a finger on the book. “Every step of the way she wrote down here.”

Sam shook her head. “Are you saying your great grandmother actually invented a drug that could free the Sinners of their symbiotes? The Sinners, who are just a legend? Or so I thought?”

Jadah shoved the journal across the table to Sam. “She laid the foundation for such a drug. Sadly, she did never accomplish it.”

“What happened?”

“She was with child when her lover's symbiote matured. He died, but she had a son who grew up being a normal child until he reached his tenth year and fell ill suddenly. Jelica believed he needed a symbiote to sustain his life force from there on.”

“Of course. The immune system shuts down. It's a genetic trigger, ensuring the Sinners were dependent on the symbiotes,” Sam murmured.

Jadah nodded. “Yes, dear. As usual you learn very quickly.”

 _No_ , Sam thought with unease, _I knew this all along. Why or how, I have no clue. And it never occurred to me before either. But I remember this from... somewhere else._

Jadah continued. “The legend says the Sinners were born with the snake already in them. But Jelica's son was not. And the snake did not grow in him either at a later point. But when he turned ten he began to suffer the same way his father did if the symbiote was taken from him.

“Jelica tried to treat her son with variations of the same medication she had given his father. She added many herbs and experimented with her son's blood in combination with different chemicals she extracted from plant life. But no matter what she tried, her son would not heal and he grew more frail with each passing week. One day Jelica's quest led her to a canyon, not far from the monastery. There she found a rare nocturnal ivy which she believed to be pivotal to the success of saving her son's life. She added it to her mixtures.

“Her son, Ismakh, lived. He was never as strong as his father; he was a small, pale boy and turned into an ailing man. But as long as he drank from his medicine every day, he lived. Jelica moved into that canyon, built a new house there. She kept searching for a better remedy, for a way to make Ismakh strong and healthy, but she did not succeed.

“Ismakh found a wife and they had a child, my grandmother Tanita. Much to Ismakh's delight his daughter hadn't inherited his weak genes and grew up to be a strong healer like Jelica. When Jelica's life drew to an end she gifted her granddaughter with this journal and after Tanita gave life to a son she vowed to accomplish what Jelica had begun should her child suffer the same weakness as Ismakh. And he did indeed suffer the same sickness.”

Sam had listened with growing fascination. When Jadah paused, she asked. “Are you saying that only the descendant's sons are born like this?”

“It is believed so, yes,” Jadah said. “But we do not know for sure. Tanita tried to find others like them, but to no avail. The monastery's doors never opened to her knocking and calling. No one wanted to assist her in her research.”

Jadah reached across the table and covered Sam's hand with hers. “We are a very old clan of healers, Samantha. The bloodline stops with me, but I will not leave this world without having passed on my legacy.”

“Jadah... I don't... I don't know if I will ever have children myself. If I'll ever have a mate to begin with.”

Jadah smiled. “There are the men from your dream. It was a strong dream. An important dream. Maybe one of them will become your mate in the future.”

“Oh, please. That was just a dream,” Sam huffed. She regretted ever having mentioned it to Jadah, even though she had shared very little about it. Sam had only told her – one morning over breakfast – that she had dreamed of three men dressed in green, who had accompanied her on a walk.

She hadn't mentioned how, in her dreams, she was drawn to them. As if they were a big part of her life. And that she felt like she dreamed of them often, even though she couldn't remember it clearly. But those men had a familiarity about them she couldn't explain. Sometimes she thought she knew them. That they had to be real. That their identities were in her head somewhere, just out of reach.

Jadah chuckled. “They impressed you. And you kept thinking about them. You, who do not believe in the truth or wisdom of dreams, were very taken by those men. You would not have shared it with me otherwise. You must listen to your dreams more closely, dear.”

“They didn't impress me.” She pulled her hand away from Jadah's, suddenly edgy. And irritated because of it.

“Oh, Samantha, don't be like that. I won't torture you with it anymore. Let's return our focus to what we must discuss,” Jadah said softly and Sam felt her anxiety dissolve at the love in her voice. “It does not matter if you will ever have children yourself, dear. As long as you will try to finish the drug.”

Sam heard the urgency in Jadah's words and looked up. “But if you never found other descendants of the Sinners... maybe there are none left. Maybe we don't need this drug anymore.”

“Our family has not looked for other descendants in many years. But there are probably others at the monastery,” Jadah said. “Sinners who are in need of this remedy. A cure. The Sinners and their descendants – if there are any - will always suffer great pain and loss unless they can be freed of the evil possessing them. This... symbiote as you so rightfully call it... it's an evil being of its own. It's no manifestation of sins.”

“No,” Sam whispered. “It's a parasite.” How could she know this? What made her so sure?

But Jadah nodded in confirmation. “If a man is a Sinner because he has failed his god in a former life he might be punished by being re-born with a snake in his belly. But if a man passes this on like a disease to his children, then it has to be a genetic disorder, not a curse. You know this from plants. They pass along their traits to their offshoot. The roses, for example, you breed them and cross-breed them until you have a certain color, a certain smell or a certain form of petals.”

“Oh, I agree. But what about the symbiote? Where does it come from if the men aren't born with it and if it doesn't grow on its own at a later point?”

Jadah smiled arcanely. “What do you believe, Samantha?”

She stared at the book. What did she believe? She wasn't sure. After a while she said. “I... I believe that, in the ancient times, those boys born with the... disorder, were given the symbiote by the gods.”

“Go on.”

“They grew up to be warriors and join the god's army because they were strong and healed from any injury with just the help of the symbiote. The gods must have bred the parasites to implant into the boys. Maybe the gods even created the sin-course. Not the legend of it, but the real course. A genetic manipulation that's carried on from generation to generation. When the people overcame their gods, the Sinners went into exile. But if ever one of them defies the rules and mates and their women are with child, the genetic disorder is given to the sons.”

Somehow Sam knew this wasn't the whole truth, but it was as close as she could get with only speculation and no real evidence.

Jadah said, “You are on the right track, Sam. I am very pleased.”

She shook her head. “And you believe there are still Sinners at the monastery after all this time? I can't see how that's possible. Because that means there still have to be symbiotes somewhere. Otherwise all male descendants of those warriors would have died at the age of ten. Do you think the monastery has symbiotes to implant in young boys – to keep them alive and as monks until the symbiote matures? But where would those symbiotes come from? Who's breeding them and how?”

“The symbiotes can be bred if the monastery is in possession of a queen. A creature that will spawn young ones to provide the monks with infant symbiotes. They are called prim'tas,” Jadah said quietly, her eyes boring into Sam's.

She felt dizzy all of a sudden. “How do you know all this?”

Jadah sighed deeply. “You will not like me saying this, Samantha. But can you try to trust me?”

She nodded readily. “Of course. I trust you.”

“I have seen this. In your memories.”

The silence between them grew longer as the sun that had wandered around the house was now sending rays of light through the family room window, playing with the shadows of the climbing rose's sneaky branches that kept trying to cover the window frame. Sam absently thought that she had to cut it back again.

“In my memories,” she repeated heavily. “Jadah, I...”

But Jadah reached out and took Sam's hands in hers. “I know you do not believe in a dream's wisdom. Or visions. But this is so much more. Your knowledge about the gods' evilness and how to defeat them. It is buried deep within you, but it is there. It finally delivered to me some missing pieces to the history of Ba'th, of the people of Ba'th. It is a great achievement to know what the Sinners really are and you gave that knowledge to me.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Sam whispered. “I don't know anything about the Sinners. Nothing beyond what everyone else knows.”

“You do not remember. I will help you to regain that knowledge. But you must try to open your mind to the fact that your past needs to be revealed. It is hidden from your mere sight, but you need to know.”

Sam shook her head. “I don't understand. What hidden past? What do you mean?”

Jadah's fingers tightened around hers. “Will you try to listen to me without judgment?”

No, she thought, suddenly close to panic. _No, I can't listen to this. It's not real. It's mambo-jambo. It's bare of any scientific foundation. She's just talking about dreams again. Visions. Some weird meaningless product of our subconscious._

But if it was just that, why did she feel like listening to Jadah would hurt her? Frighten her? That was ridiculous. She took a deep calming breath. Just dreams. What could it hurt?

“I'll try,” she finally said, turning their hands over and lacing her fingers with Jadah's. She felt better immediately, anchored like that.

And as Jadah began to talk, Sam felt her skin crawl with goosebumps despite the sunny day and the tea, forgotten between them on the table, grew cold.


	3. Resurrection Part III - Weaving Threads III

**III**

Jack leaned back in his chair and, knowing his face was hidden in the shadows of the night, allowed a smile curving his lips. His new buddy, Björk – though to Jack he'd always be Mohawk – was quite the entertaining fella. Right now he was talking about a trip to a nearby island he and his friends had taken on one of the steamboats last week.

Jack hadn't been certain the tourist would show up. He hadn't been holding his breath either. But an hour or so into their first game of dice Mohawk had strolled out of the bar and crossed the back deck where Jack and his friends had occupied their usual table by the water.

Jack hadn't recognized him right away because the neon blue Mohawk was – gone. Instead the hair was dark blond and parted in the middle, partly covering the shorn sides of his head. He looked much less than a 'kid' now and more like a guy in his late twenties. Nice. Real nice.

The shock had apparently been all over Jack's face because Mohawk smirked and winked at him. “If you hang out with the locals, try to blend in.”

Viktor and Hadis had been a bit put out when Jack introduced Mohawk to his friends and he couldn't blame them. A tourist in a local bar was a rare sight and neither Viktor nor Hadis were thrilled with every head turning to stare openly at them when the newcomer had said “Hi” and pulled a chair over from another table to sit with them.

But soon they all had another round of beer on the tourist and as the evening moved on Mohawk won Viktor and Hadis over with his wit and stories from places he'd seen.

The man had a talent for talking about his travels without making it sound like showing off or like he was in any way better than them. Most of his journeys, so he shared, were sponsored by the university for his studies of ancient architecture and he often slept in tents or under the sky because the sponsor money barely covered food and transportation. Living at a hotel with room service was a luxury Mohawk could only afford every once in a while.

“This is my vacation and me and my fellow students are sharing the room,” he'd said lightly.

He'd been many places, that guy, and Jack wondered what it'd be like not to stay in one town all the time but to move around and get to know the land. There were jobs everywhere and he didn't need much. He could take Thor and do some traveling.

Except now he had that cute little millstone hanging around his neck.

Speaking of which... Jack looked around to make sure Danny was still where he was supposed to be. He spotted him sitting on the ground beside Mania. They were working on a joint drawing with a piece of charcoal Mania had brought with her. They had chosen a space with no tables and out of the waiter's way, close to a kerosene lamp hanging from a hook so they had enough light to see what they were doing.

 

 

Danny had been even less happy than Viktor and Hadis about the stranger's arrival earlier. Opposed to his usual open curiosity and readiness to talk to people, the kid had taken one look at Mohawk, climbed into Jack's lap and buried his face against his shoulder, refusing to even say hi until Jack had prompted him to remember his manners. But even then the greeting had been a mere mumble.

Mohawk had taken the open rejection with ease and Jack had let it slide, thinking Danny was probably worn out from the day.

He seemed to be fine now, though, giggling softly to something the princess of Ba'th whispered to him. They picked up their glasses of lemonade, clinked them together like grownups and giggled again.

Mania had come to the beach this afternoon, looking for her prince and Danny had given her back the crown which was now tied around her head again. Jack had made some good money today and decided to take the rest of the afternoon off. He'd packed his fishing rod and some bread as bait. Then he'd taken the kids to the Lance beach where he'd sat on a rock in the water, fishing, as he watched Danny and Mania building sand castles and collecting shells at the shoreline.

Later Mania had disappeared for a while and Jack and Danny grilled fish on a stick over a fire. When it had been time to go to the bar the little girl joined them again and tagged along.

“I really like Ba'th Town. It's a great little town with nice people,” Mohawk just said to no one in particular. “And the ruins are worth exploring a little more closely. I only wish I could read the old writings. There are no accurate translations of the glyphs anywhere. Which is unfortunate as there are many ruins such as these in other places. Palaces and theaters and boulevards. Some very decayed and some better preserved.”

“They sent a team of geeks out here to dig up stuff,” Jack said. “Because they saw the potential for a tourist attraction. But no one has ever translated all that writing. Maybe even what's in my guide book is just made up.”

“I'd like to see that book some time if you don't mind.”

Jack shrugged. “It's at the ruins. Come by tomorrow night and I'll show ya.” He knew it was a bold invitation.

Across the table, Viktor narrowed his eyes, but if he was wondering why Jack was socializing with tourists all of a sudden, and if he came to the right conclusions, he chose not to comment on it.

It was all pointless anyway. With the little bug around nothing was going to happen. At least nothing spectacular and earth shattering.

“I might do that,” Mohawk said, giving Jack a small, almost coy, smile.

Hadis pointed his full glass at Jack. “Should you not start looking for a real home now? And a wife?”

 _Oh, here we go again._ “Nope, don't see why you'd think that.”

“You have responsibilities now,” Hadis said sternly, his dark eyes boring into him.

Jack liked the guy, but sometimes he wished Hadis would loosen up a bit. He kept his voice low enough so Danny wouldn't hear him. “The kid's been living with me for, what, two days now. Someone might still claim him. And besides, who says I'm gonna keep him?”

“You bought him clothes,” Viktor said. “Probably spent half of this week's earnings.”

“He needed clothes. He can't traipse around in one of my t-shirts all the time.” And Jack had always stashed some money for emergencies or when business was slow. Wasn't much, but enough to afford a set of clothes for a four year old.

“Masala is in love with the boy. Says he's like sunshine on a rainy day,” Hadis said around his pipe.

“Well, he's a great kid,” Jack agreed.

“You don't have the slightest idea where he came from?” Mohawk had followed the conversation with interest.

“Not really, nope. I asked around, no one seems to know him. He can't give me much intel about who he is.” The names Sam and Teal'c popped into Jack's head and his traitorous mind immediately presented images to go with the names now; a woman, short blond hair and blue eyes, trim and fit, wearing some military fatigue. Then there was Teal'c, the big black guy with the golden tattoo on his head. Bald and stoic. The Sinner.

Jack quickly gulped down most of his beer.

“That's strange. Don't you have to call, uh, Law Enforcement or something?” Mohawk asked.

“Nah. LE isn't gonna do anything about this. They'll lock him up for a while, then kick him out on the streets again.” Jack shrugged. “He's better off with me.”

“Kick him out on the streets? But he's, what, four? Five?”

“What else are they supposed to do? I guess at best they'd send him to the cities. I heard there are places that take in homeless kids.” Hadis leaned back and watched his smoke rings as they floated away and faded into the night.

“Yes, there are. Home for the Homeless they call them,” Mohawk said. “I don't know what it's like to live there, but I heard kids get an education and can stay until they are grown up.”

“Our Danny's gonna end up being a beach seller like Jack,” Viktor said with a grin. “I heard he's quite the barker talent already.”

“He's got potential,” Jack agreed.

“You could send him to school next fall.” All of Hadis' kids went to school from fall to spring, which wasn't a given. Most kids of lowly Ba'th didn't have that luxury. But then, Hadis was well on his way to become an upper class citizen, or at least somewhere in the middle. “He might want to be more than a beach seller when he's older.”

“Hey,” Jack snapped. “You were a beach seller yourself just a couple of years ago. There's nothing wrong with keeping things simple.”

“Our Hadis, always striving for higher goals.” Viktor raised his glass in a toast. “May he still remember his friends when he's rich and famous.”

“Ouch.” Mohawk winced and they all laughed and clinked their glasses, including Hadis who, despite being a pain in the neck at times, rarely took offense whenever they were arguing about what was important in life.

They played another game of dice and Mohawk won – which meant the next round of beer was on him again. Viktor had paid for the first round since he was going to leave for his parent's peach farm tomorrow. Jack and Hadis were the lucky ones tonight, getting free beer.

As they continued to talk and play Jack realized it was getting very late. Much too late for the kids. And just as he was thinking that he had to leave soon, both of them were suddenly there. In a whirl of lemonade- and charcoal-sticky hands, pointy knees and dusty bare feet they clambered into Jack's lap, made themselves comfortable in the crooks of his arms and snuggled in.

“I think this is my cue to go,” he muttered, patting a blond and a red head.

“I ith vewy comfy,” Mania said with a contented little sigh.

“Can Mania come home with us, Jack?” Danny yawned widely. “There's 'nuff space on the beach for all of us to sleep.”

Viktor chuckled into his beer and Hadis puffed out a series of small round rings, his beard twitching.

Rolling his eyes, Jack thought quickly and came up with. “Why don't we take her home instead? A real princess has to sleep in her own bed, you know. So she's well rested for the hard job of reigning over her land.”

Mania giggled sleepily. “Ith a vewy hawd job, thquiwe Jack.”

“Yep, so let's escort you home, your majesty.” He gently prodded her to slip off so he could get out of the chair, scooping Danny up in the process.

“May I offer my service as another home escort, your majesty?” Mohawk held out his hand to the small girl.

Mania eyed him with a tiny scowl. “Awe you a nice man?” She turned to look at Jack. “Ith he a nice man? I don't wanna take hith hand. Mama thayth never to go with men I dunno.”

“No,” Danny said firmly. “He's not a nice man.”

“ _Daniel_ ,” Jack admonished sharply. To Mania he said, “I think he's nice, honey, but you don't have to take his hand.”

“I'm not Daniel, I'm just Danny,” the bug grumbled.

Jack wasn't going to do hairsplitting over names. Danny was short for Daniel, right? Had to be. “Don't be a brat,” he warned.

Danny hid his face at Jack's neck, refusing to give Mohawk another glance.

They said goodbye to Hadis and wished Viktor safe travels and a profitable peach season.

As they entered the dark and dingy back streets Jack tightened his arm around Danny protectively and took Mania's hand. He knew she was used to strolling around the Lance on her own. She lived here, after all. But while the place was always busy and seemed like a relatively safe area during the day, there were drunks and seedy fellas lurking in the dark and at least when she was with him he would make sure she got home okay.

The moon illuminated the cobble stones and the crooked sheds and cabins, skew-whiff from years of winter storms and summer heat. Someone had fixed cabbage for dinner tonight and the smell still hung in the narrow alleys, mingling with the faint but always present fish odor.

“Do you have to stay with your aunt tonight?” Jack asked Mania.

“No. Mama hath gone to the wich man'th houth. Mikele and Wanja ith home.”

When they arrived and Mania took off, they waited until the small girl had entered the house before they made their way back through the labyrinth of narrow streets to the market road.

“You are good with kids,” Mohawk observed quietly.

Jack shrugged. “I like kids. They're great at making lemonade when life gives them lemons and all that.”

“Your little friend there doesn't seem to like me much,” Mohawk mused.

Jack jiggled Danny a bit higher. He was asleep and limp. “Maybe that should tell me something because that kid literally likes everyone else.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel very... special.”

“So what? Are you a creepy pervert under that smooth, handsome face?”

“No, nothing exciting like that I'm afraid. Just a geek with preferences for older guys.”

“Hey, easy, fella. Don't let the hair fool ya.”

Jack caught a flash of white teeth as Mohawk grinned at him. “Do you think you could, um, find a babysitter some night?”

“Ahhh, but I haven't even decided if I like you, yet,” Jack drawled.

“Oh yes, you have. You do.”

“No, I don't.”

“Do.”

“I...” He felt his throat getting tight, but it wasn't because Mohawk was walking pretty close to him. And it wasn't because of the bantering. He felt the world shift and...

  


...found himself sitting at a large black and red table, facing a pair of familiar blue eyes behind glasses, and questioningly raised eyebrows.

“...You just said there's nothing 'cruvus' with you.”

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Didn't.”

“Did.”

“Didn't.”

“Did.”

“Cruvus, what is that?”

“I don't know. Um…well, I'm guessing in the context of what you're saying you were trying

to say that there's nothing wrong with you.” ...

  


...Jack jerked away from the strong hand settling on his arm.

“Are you okay?” Mohawk asked, quickly lowering his hand to his side.

Jack stared at the sleeping boy in his arm. Danny hadn't touched him. And yet...

“Yeah, fine,” he ground out. There was definitely something _cruvus_ with him. Oy.

“You just looked like you saw a ghost or something.”

“I'm good.” _I'm just losing my mind here, but that's all right. Nothing to see, carry on people._

They walked on in silence, the mumbling of the ocean a constant background music. They were on the boardwalk now and the beach was dark and deserted, but the hotels were still ablaze with light. During the summer the hotels often hosted pool parties or offered other activities to keep people entertained. However, there was little noise tonight because most families were getting ready to leave over the next couple of days. Soon the hotels would be deserted, some even closed down until next season. Soon the beaches would belong to the locals again.

Jack took a deep breath of the warm night air, inhaling the scent of red summer jasmine and beach grass. He tasted the salt from the ocean on his lips and felt the light breeze tousling his hair.

This was real. This was his life. Maybe his life was about to get a tad more complicated thanks to the limpet currently plastered against him, but it was still his life. And a pretty good life, too.

“Finding a babysitter is complicated,” he said after a while. “He's not good about staying with other people right now.”

“He thinks you might leave him, too. Like his parents did.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Mohawk nodded. “Can't blame him.”

Jack decided he liked Mohawk enough to rephrase his earlier offer. “We’re having fried chicken picks and chips for dinner tomorrow. And some salad like tomatoes and peppers with dressing on top. I'll show you that book and we could do some stargazing if you like that kinda thing. View's pretty good from the theater.”

“Sounds nice. Want me to bring something?”

“Yeah.” Jack smirked. “Dinner. You'll get the best chicken and chips at Cennet's. That's somewhere between here and the bazaar. Just walk down the market road, can't miss it.”

Mohawk chuckled, clearly amused. “Are you always ordering your dates to buy the food?”

“Yeah. But if there's a second date, I might actually cook. If you bring the ingredients.”

“Good to know.”

They parted at Viktor's booth and Jack watched Mohwak's tall silhouette as he continued on the boardwalk.

 _Couldn't have found a worse time to get hooked up with someone_ , he thought a bit disgruntled. He'd been without a lover for years. Hadn't been looking for someone either. Now, in just a couple of days, he had acquired a child and a possible way to get laid. Well, at least he hadn't signed up for a kind of boyfriend thing here. Not that Jack was interested in that kind of relationship anyway. And Mohawk would be gone in a couple of days and that was that. He just wished he'd had the joy of getting laid before Danny showed up. Because now it wasn't likely to happen unless the star child was willing to stay with someone else before Mohawk left for home.

“Can't have everything your way, eh?” He put the boy down in the booth and collected their blankets to carry them outside, wondering briefly why the kid rejected Mohawk so vehemently. Was this something he should keep in mind? Or even listen to? Was the kid trying to tell him something?

He sighed. Somehow he thought Danny was trying to tell him something all the damn time.

_He's a little kid, not some prophet. And he did NOT fall from the sky._

Jack almost believed it by the time he and Danny were tucked away outside under their blanket with the stars watching over them.

He liked star gazing. If he had a telescope...

_A what?_

Some... thing to enlarge the stars and the moon with.

_Right_

He gazed at the night sky sleepily, thinking he'd seen other skies, maybe. Twin moons. A turquoise or green-ish sky with different star constellations. Red skies. Yellow-ish...

 _You definitely had too much beer_ , he thought to himself. Something else he had to keep an eye on now with the short stuff being around.

His eyes closed and he took the stars with him as he drifted off to sleep...

  


...He was on his roof, one hand wrapped loosely around a cold bottle of beer. They were taking turns looking through the telescope, squabbling over where to find Abydos. Carter prattled on about Leo, trying to explain Earth constellations to Teal'c. It was summer. Nice. Warm. Jack sipped from his beer as he watched Daniel on the other side of the deck. The young archeologist seemed lost in thought as he gazed over the dark yard and neighborhood roofs, bottle dangling from his fingers, apparently forgotten.

Jack thought he was probably worrying about Sha're, wondering where she was. They didn't talk about her, much. Daniel tried not to give up hope and Jack tried not to feel too guilty about the very real possibility that he wouldn't be able to keep his promise to find her and get her back.

He moved quietly to stand beside Daniel. Carter and Tealc's voices – hers light and bubbly, his rumbling and low – faded to the background.

Jack nudged his elbow against Daniel's and leaned into him ever so slightly, holding the contact _. We'll find her,_ Jack thought. _Someday._

And Daniel nodded, just as though he'd heard him saying it.

Jack turned his head a fraction, so he could make out Daniel's profile. He knew his friend was smiling even though it was too dark to really see. Jack felt the familiar ache in his gut as he wondered what it'd be like to bury his nose in that floppy, long hair, or nuzzle the skin just under Daniel's ear.

He had to step away and bite the inside of his cheek hard. The pain was sobering and helped getting his mind off... things. Things he couldn't feel. Couldn't even think abwenout. Stupid, fucked up stuff. He grabbed his beer more tightly and took a long swig...

  


...Under his blanket at the beach, Jack turned to his other side. He surfaced from his sleep just for a moment to feel the boy restlessly moving next to him. Patting his back absently Jack went back to sleep and was plunged into another dream....

  


...The palace with the light thingy was too dark, too gloomy.

Jack had tried to spend more time outside, but the lingering withdrawl symptoms kept making him edgy and he'd start to pace and fidget. Finally he had given up trying to walk the beach and, instead, spent his time inside again with the others.

They were trying to pass time with card games, reading, writing in journals (Daniel), studying the light machine (Carter), kel-no-reeming (Teal'c) or showing Loran how to play the Nintendo and answering all his questions about what it was like on Earth.

Daniel had wanted to check out the palace. But this place was old and big and not even Loran knew every nook and cranny. Said he'd never strayed far from the section with the light thingy. So Jack had ordered them to always move out in pairs if they wanted to explore the palace's deeper regions.

Which meant he accompanied Daniel on trips through dim hallways, into empty rooms with very little to look at. That's where they found the balcony. It led out on the cliff overlooking the ocean. Its banister was partly destroyed – stone pillars lay broken at the bottom of the cliff – but the smooth slate ground was solid.

They both liked the place. Outside, but close enough to keep the edginess at bay. Now, whenever Daniel wanted to wander around and Jack was with him they ended up coming here, watching the sun set. Somehow they forgot to tell the others about it. It was their place. They never discussed it, but the balcony was their little hideaway.

They didn't talk much, they didn't have to. Sometimes, ever since they knew each other, they were loud and angry and in each others face, but at other times they were in sync, in silent agreement about everything. Sometimes they were foes, most of the times they were friends. Jack still longed, still felt that ache. On this planet, so close to each other all the damn time it wasn't always easy to keep a lid on it. But Jack was Special Ops, he could deal with it.

He was counting the days until they could return home. Eight to go now. As they were standing there, shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, almost but not quite touching, the sun drowned in the ocean like a ball of fire.

“I'm gonna miss this.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel was probably talking about the view. Jack wasn't. One of many reasons he couldn't wait to be home again. Team bonding was nice and all, but sometimes he felt too close. Too close to Daniel. It was nice. And dangerous. Jack wanted to be even closer to Daniel. And he didn't. He had to keep the balance and most of the time it wasn't a problem. He could cope.

Like, when he wasn't under some creepy alien influence that made him smash hockey sticks through car windows or going wacko in the infirmary because Daniel was about to die. That's when it got tricky. When he was too close to reveal the truth. Yay for alien influences to serve as excuses.

“I would have jumped,” Daniel said out of the blue. “If you hadn't been there...”

“But I was.”

“Yeah.”

“What did you mean... It always goes away? We can't get it back?”

Daniel shook his head. The orange sunlight reflected in his glasses. “I have no idea. I don't even remember how I got out there.”

Somehow Jack knew Daniel was lying. He put a hand on a broad shoulder. Much broader than it used to be two years or so ago. The long, floppy hair was gone, too.

“I'm sorry.” They had never really talked about Sha're's death. Daniel had licked his wounds for a while, then straightened up and moved on. Or at least part of him moved on. Jack knew all too well that some part of you always stays with the one you lost. Like you were in a loop, stuck in that horrible moment when the doctor gave you the news. Something you already knew deep in your gut, but wouldn't accept until you had to face them dead on. And then you kept reliving the moments. The gun shot. The blood. The dying body of your only child in your arms...

Or when you were sitting on the ground next to your wife who'd been killed by one of your closest friends.

“What are you sorry about?” Daniel asked quietly.

“I promised you we'd find her. That we'd save her.”

“We tried.”

“Wasn't good enough.”

“There was nothing you could have done. Or Teal'c.” Daniel's voice was flat but calm. What he didn't say, but what Jack could 'hear' him saying loud and clear, was that there might have been a chance to save Sha're.

Maybe after she'd killed Daniel. Because there hadn't been anyone left to protect Ammaunet. They could have taken her hostage and saved her, taken her to the Tollans to get rid of the snake. Sha're could have led them to the Harsesis child later..Only, back then they hadn't known the Tollans were capable of un-goa'ulding people. And Jack was on the same page with T – there was no way they'd let Daniel die. Not even to save Sha're.

“I'll find the boy,” Daniel said, jaw tightly set. “It's what she wants me to do. What I have to do.”

“ _We'll_ find the boy,” Jack said, hoping it wasn't another promise he'd fail to keep.

“I loved her very much,” Daniel said, his features softening in the now dusty yellow light of dusk. And there was a but. It hung between them, unspoken, but definitely there.

 _What?_ Jack gently nudged Daniel with his elbow. “You okay?”

“Yes.” They turned their heads at the same time, ending up almost nose to nose. Daniel licked his lips. Jack was paralyzed.

“Thank you,” Daniel murmured.

“For what?”

“I don't know. For being... here, I guess. For never giving up searching for Sha're.”

“It's what I do.” Jack's voice sounded like sandpaper and then Daniel's lips were brushing against his, just briefly. In a blink of an eye he pulled back and wrapped his arms around himself.

He cleared his throat and grimaced. “That was... “

“Something to do with that light thingy,” Jack jumped in quickly, still rooted to the spot. Yep, alien influences come in handy sometimes.

“Yeah.”

“Gotcha.”

“Sorry, I...”

“Right.” They walked away and never visited their balcony again...

  



	4. Resurrection Part III - Weaving Threads IV

**IV**

Sam watched the mass in the bowl as she stirred, her hand tightly gripping the wooden spoon. Slowly the whites of the wild turkey eggs meshed with the blue cherries she had added earlier. The mash turned violet and she paused to reach for the small bag of crushed sodium crystals Jadah used for creating some of the more powerful healing drugs. Sam added just the right amount of the fine crystalline powder, then reached for the salt and gave a pinch to the mixture. She continued stirring. Steam rose from the bowl and she remembered Jadah's instructions about when to add the water.

_Not yet._

_Keep stirring._

The intense fruity smell of the cherries changed slowly; it had a sharp, acid note to it now. This was her cue. Sam kept the spoon moving and slowly added the water. More steam ascended from the bowl and the smell became very pungent. Without pausing in her stirring she reached for the small carafe of strong, red wine. She blew over the steam and, as it parted, poured the wine into the liquid and stepped back just in time to avoid the blue flame shooting from the bowl like a spear of light. It died away quickly and Sam released her halted breath as she moved forward again to peer into the bowl.

Hot, dark-purple liquid was at the bottom, just like Jadah had said there would be. _If the liquid is dark and purple you have done everything righ_ t.

“Sooo, I did it right. Go, me,” Sam murmured, trying to relax and be all aloof about this.

Not like she was about to take a psychedelic drug to... “To open my mind. To be able to see my past.” She picked up the bowl, crossed the kitchen and walked through the open door. As she stepped out into the night she hesitated.

Only the moon would witness if she poured the bowl out over the fence. No one needed to know. She could tell Jadah it hadn't worked. Which, so insisted the rational part of her mind, would probably be true. It wasn't going to work. Not on her. Because to make these psychedelic drugs work you needed to believe in their power.

 _But_ , her inner voice argued sharply, _these are chemical reactions that will alter your mind and open it. No magic. Just chemical substances working with your body. Or against it._

 _And_ , the comforting rational part of her mind answered, _if it's the chemicals altering the mind, it means you're just drugged and having hallucinations. Your mind won't be opened, it will just be manipulated._

She had promised Jadah she would try.

It all came down to that.

Jadah had said it was necessary Sam remembered her 'real' past. That she needed to find what lay beyond the fog veiling her memories. It was important that she went on her journey to find a way to accomplish her mission.

And deep down inside she believed Jadah was right. That there was something hidden in her mind that wanted out. She had caught a glimpse of those memories when they talked about Jelica's journal and she felt there was more to this than just her subconscious dragging out some forgotten things she'd learned at school.

And she dreaded to find out about these things and what exactly they meant … while, at the same time, she was curious.

Careful not to spill the steaming contents Sam walked down the path between the rose bushes and rounded the house. She even had agreed to wearing the white silk dress Jadah had laid out for her. Something about the pristine whiteness and the flowing garment being important for the ritual because it represented the moon and pureness. She had to admit the dress felt cool and comfortable on her skin.

It was a mild night and the air was heavy with the scent of the roses and other flowers in bloom as she reached the small round stone terrace. Jadah mixed most of the drugs that required to be created during full moon out here.

A small marble bench stood in the middle of the terrace. Sam placed the bowl on its smooth, white surface. She knelt down in front of it and took deep inhaling breaths of the smoke still curling from the bowl. The egg whites and cherries had reacted with the sodium crystals and the wine. The liquid was hot and the smell still eye watering. It seemed to get stuck in her nostrils and left a metallic taste on her tongue. She swallowed and resisted the urge to spit to get rid of the taste.

She wished Jadah was here, but the old woman had insisted Sam needed to be alone with her visions. She stayed at the house, close by and on alert in case something went wrong.

Sam forced more deep breaths into her and the air around her became foggy.

Fog?

It was a balmy night. Not humid, not chilly.

Yet, there was fog, flimsy but definitely there. White fog.

_It's the smoke from the bowl, no fog. And it can't be this much. That's my mind expanding._

Next there was a sound; a rumbling and hissing and klaxons going off... Sam covered her ears with her hands. Too loud. A new sound now, a loud wooshing. The thundering of a waterfall cascading down a mountain. No. Not a waterfall. A vortex of... 

         ...Energy. A deadly burst of blue energy. It spilled out from inside the ring. The ring of... not stone... not stone... something else... the energy inside the ring was the...

...“Event horizon,” Sam said, the word strange and familiar. “A wormhole. Inside the gate is an energy field. And the gate leads to...”...

  
...Symbols were forming in the fog that was now the wormhole inside the gate. Sam raised a hand, tracing the signs. Star constellations. Seven. Six for the address, one the point of origin... The ring was...

  
...“The stargate,” she whispered.

As if she had said the magic word to break the invisible seal of a secret chamber, the gate inside her opened and the vortex of whirling energy carried images...

  
….Faces with glowing eyes, symbols, places, other faces - some kind, some cruel, some very alien, a bald man wearing a familiar uniform, a secret facility underneath a mountain in a place called Colorado, white squiggles on a chalkboard, glowing computer screens, star maps.

And again and again the men from her dreams. Surrounding her like beacons in the night. Quiet strength, a code of honor, a golden tattoo on ebony skin. Sharp wit, hardened edges but with a soft spot on the inside, brown eyes sometimes cold sometimes warm.

The third one was slightly blurred. Slightly off kilter. She reached for the image, tried to place him. A nice guy, confident and smiling but unsure of himself. There was guilt... no, not that one. The one she was looking for was passionate and loyal, walking the line between science and mythology. He used to be like a brother. A kind but stubborn man, and unyielding if he had to be. Blue eyes and dimples. Glasses and...

  
...Something distracted her, something at the edge of her peripheral vision. Sam turned her head and it felt as though she could turn it all the way around on her neck at 190 degree. It made her dizzy even knowing she wasn't really using her head like a spinning top.

When she caught the cause of her distraction she rose from the ground in one flowing motion. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment all she could think was that there had to be something wrong with _him_.

Orlin's name and the connected memory rose from her whirling ocean of thoughts. Orlin had been like _him_. But different.

Orlin had been much brighter, much more ethereal, when he'd transformed himself into energy. The being in front of her shimmered silver, like the moon. There were energy tendrils curling and stretching just like Orlin's. But he seemed more transparent, less solid. Sam could see the leaves of the bushes and flowers behind him, through him. His light pulsed slowly and the core in the middle - where Orlin had been agleam in a blinding way – seemed dimmed, somehow, almost as if something was overshadowing it.

She took a tentative step towards it.

_Him._

Moistening her lips with her tongue she whispered, “Daniel?”

*******

Daniel had visited Teal'c one last time, to say goodbye. He couldn't stay, had to move on. Oma had been right all along. It was not his call to interfere here. Not anymore.

Teal'c had been in a deep trance, his bald head glistening with sweat, his mouth moving in silent prayers to false gods.

So sad and disturbing.

One last time something in Daniel had struggled and rebelled against giving up, against leaving his friend behind to die. But he had vanquished it quickly. There was no point. He had tried and failed like Oma predicted. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. Or at least he wanted to leave this place and find peace somewhere else.

He had brushed by the Jaffa, whispering his farewell, unsurprised when it had fallen on deaf ears.

'Tac ma te, my friend. May we meet again once you have released your burden.'

He had soared away from the monastery, over the dark woods and lakes, the small hills and villages, until he had reached Sam's sanctuary; gardens behind white washed walls surrounded by forests, orchards and fields of flowers.

He had found her kneeling on the ground, absorbed in some ritual. The moonlight painted her blond hair and white dress silver. Her face was a small bright spot with deep, dark pools as eyes.

 

She'd been talking to herself and as Daniel had edged closer, unseen as usual, he had made out the words.

“DHD, stargate, SGC, SG-1, General Hammond, Teal'c, the Goa'uld are not gods, Colonel O'Neill, Jonas, the Asgard are our friends, The Others took away...” She'd stopped and slowly turned towards him with saucer-eyes.

She'd looked directly at him as she surged to her feet.

Looked _at_ him.

Not through him.

 _At him_.

“Daniel?” Barely a whisper.

He froze in mid air, expecting The Others to step in. To destroy him or at least pull him away. But all stayed quiet. There was the garden and Sam and him. And the moon, silent and peaceful, almost – but not yet - half full.

He'd been here endless times before, trying to get through to her. Always without success.

But now... now that he was about to leave... to move on.

“Daniel, is that you?” She took another small step in his direction. “I... I know this is probably not real. There's that stuff I... some... some psychedelic drug.” Her voice slurred a little as if she was drunk and her dilated pupils were like black marbles. “But, oh my gosh, Daniel, I remember you. And you're... glowing.”

He met her in the middle of the stone terrace, still torn between the desire to talk to her, to communicate – oh, god, he had missed her – and the need to leave. To seal his heart and do what he'd been meant to do all along. Be ascended. Be free.

He extended a tendril of light towards her, touching her tear stained face, bringing them closer together until she was bathed in his energy, his spirit.

Or what was left of it anyway.

'Sam.'

'Oh my god, it's really you.'

'Yes.'

'How could I forget you? How could I forget everything...'

'Someone made you forget.'

They communicated without words, just thoughts, and he could feel amazement and excitement coming off her in vibes.

'I think I remember most of... but it's all coming back to me so quickly, everything's jumbled and out of order...'

He cradled her face between imaginary hands, soothing the chaos in her mind as best as he could without alerting The Others.

'Daniel?'

'I'm here'

'Have you been here all this time, watching?'

'Yes. I've been trying to help. But I couldn't. I'm sorry.'

'I don't even know why we are here. Or where here is. Except that I thought this was home. And now I'm not sure what exactly this is. What gate address....'

'You came through the gate on a moon. The one that's right there over your head.'

'The stargate is on the moon?'

'Yes. Very few people know it exists. And they have no interest in letting anyone know about it.'

'What happened. To us. To SG-2, no... 1. We... were SG-1.'

'Yes, you, Jack, Teal'c, Jonas...'

'Jonas, yes, I remember him. The colonel, he took him on the team, but I don't think he really wanted to.'

'Jack made a good choice. The right choice.'

'The colonel... Teal'c... where are they, do you know?'

'Can't help them. I'm sorry.'

He felt her confusion and braced himself for the question.

'Why can't you help?'

'I'm not allowed to interfere. We can't meddle in the lower planes.'

Her thoughts, chaotic and racing a moment ago, slowed down somewhat as she processed his words. 'All I need to know is where they are. We'll figure out the rest. Can you point me into their direction?'

'Sam, they don't remember. Not you, not SG-1...'

'I'll take the blue cherry drug with me. It'll help them remember everything.'

'They won't want to remember.' He was channeling Oma now. That seemed wrong, but wasn't it the truth?

'Well, they won't know if they want to if they don't know they lost their memories in the first place, right?'

She was asking all the right questions to make the little rebellious part in him stir. He wished he hadn't stopped to see her one last time. 'I have tried, Sam. I tried and they are both resisting any attempt to reach their subconscious.'

But so had she. And yet, here they were.

'But you said you can't interfere. So you had to be careful. Maybe too careful. Who's supposed to stop me?'

'Those who have given you the memory stamps won't just let you waltz into the government palace to take a glider. And you need one to get to the gate. You'll need weapons and...'

'We've been in lots of tight spots before, remember? We'll get out of here. As soon as Teal'c and the colonel remember who they are, who 'we' are. I need to know where to find them. Holy Hannah, I don't even know how long we've been away from Earth.'

She trembled in shock when some aspects of her situation hit her. Daniel wrapped himself more tightly around her as he tried to calm her. Yet, he knew that his next revelations weren't going to help with that.

'There's more. Teal'c, he's... very sick. The new memories they've given him... he's preparing to die.'

He passed on images to her, oddly relieved that he could finally share this with someone who actually cared and echoed his own worry. The worry that was still there in the core of him even though he wanted to cut it out of himself. Because he had to move on. And he'd been ready to before she'd turned everything upside down again.

Because she could see him.

Communicate with him.

It changed everything.

A simple plant drug had enabled him to act without being torn apart by The Others.

Her consciousness coiled and her body shook with horror at what he was showing her. She was totally open, not able to keep her emotions in check, as a side effect of the drug.

'Tell me what I can do. Daniel... He can't die. Not like this.'

'He will ascend, it'll be all right in the end.'

'No! How can you... how can you even say that? What has being ascended done to you? What happened to; no one gets left behind? This is Teal'c, Daniel. This is your friend who is going to die a horrible death by having his symbiote ripped out of him.'

'It's maturing. He has to take it out either way. There's not enough time for you to find Jack, give him back his memories and get to Teal'c. It'll be over by the time you are there.'

'Then I'll find Teal'c first! I...' He felt her focus slip, latching on to something else. 'Jadah knew. She gave me the book. It's all in the book.'

'What's in a book, Sam?'

To his surprise hope radiated off her now. She was literally shining with it, her whole aura illuminated. He felt dark and gloomy in comparison. Hope was something for the lower planes' beings. Something to keep them going. Daniel had left all that behind, finally.

'I know how to create a drug to keep Teal’c alive when he has to take out the symbiote. It’ll keep him going until we are home. Do you hear what I’m saying? You need to tell me where he is. And how much time he has. Daniel?'

'You won’t make it in time, Sam. I’m sorry.'

'You don’t know that. Unless...' Her hope flickered, but didn’t die. 'Does ascension mean you know everything? I don’t think Orlin was all-knowing. He couldn’t predict the future.'

'Neither can I.'

'Then, please, help me. I know you can. Just give me something to work with.'

He was thrown back into Jack’s cell at Ba’al’s fortress, the piercing brown eyes forever burned into his memories. _“I’m not asking you to knock down walls, just a little recon.”_

He could give her what she asked for since she’d be able to piece most of the information together herself. He wasn’t interfering, not really. He knew she wasn’t going to make it, but he could help her trying.

'You know where Teal’c is. The monastery. Jadah will know the way. You need to hurry, he doesn’t have much time left. The process of junior maturing is sped up by some plant they are feeding him.'

'How long?'

'I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe two or three, maybe longer, maybe less.'

She blinked at him with her dilated eyes, the blue irises nothing but a small rim around dark pupils. 'There’s a place somewhere in the woods. I have to go and collect a rare nocturnal plant that only grows there, and only blossoms at full moon. I need to add it to the drug to help Teal'c after the removal of his symbiote.'

Then she stiffened and shook her head. 'I'm on a blue cherry trip. I'm drugged to my eyeballs. How do I even know this is real. That you're not a delusion? The Daniel I know would never even consider leaving his friends to their fate – even if it was against the rules.'

'I tried. Don't think I didn't try. Oma dragged me away again and again. But I have overstepped the lines once before and if I do it again The Others will stop me even before I make a real move.'

She nodded. 'Orlin explained this to me. I remember it just now. He'd been punished for interfering. The Others banished him to Velona after they destroyed it in order to keep the universal balance he had tipped by offering the natives help to destroy the Goa'uld. You think they might do something like that? Just because you want to help your friends?'

'Go, save Teal'c. This is your chance.'

'What about the colonel? I can't leave him behind.'

'Jack doesn't need saving. Not like Teal'c. He's...' Daniel knew he kept channeling Oma, but he couldn't help it. 'He's happy here.'

'Happy?'

'Yes.'

'Daniel, I was happy here. I...' She averted her eyes as another piece of impact hit her. 'I really was happy here. Even now that I remember, I love this place.'

'Yes, you were. I'm sorry the drug took that away from you.'

'Jadah wanted me to find my memories. A past hidden from the mere eye, that's what she said. I was happy here, but I prefer the truth over living a faked life.'

'You should ask her what else she knows. Maybe she can help you and Teal'c to leave.' It was a small shred of hope, but he knew she'd run with it.

'We won't leave without the colonel.'

'Teal'c is weak. Even if you manage to sustain him after junior is gone, you'll be lucky if you get him out of the monastery and to a safe place alive. Then you have to go to the main city and find a way to steal a glider to reach the gate. And there's something else – the venus trap that catches travelers and transfers them to wherever they get memory stamped.'

'Venus trap?'

'I don't exactly know how that works, but the gate has some built-in mechanism that takes people right form the wormhole to a place where the memory stamping happens. The trap only works one-way, via dialing in from another planet. So you'll be able to leave. But you can't go to straight back to Earth.'

She struggled to understand, he could sense that. She was trying to make the right connections, her memory still not razor sharp in all departments. He could see the exact moment she got it. 'They locked us out of the system. Our... GD... GDOs. They are no longer valid.'

'Exactly. Go to Chulak.'

'Chulak?'

'Yes, if you make it that far, Bra'tac will help with a new symbiote for Teal'c. And he'll talk to Hammond to let him know you are still alive and not imposters.'

'Yes, Bra'tac. Hammond. General Hammond... Some things are still blurred. Unreal. It's like I stepped through the mirror.'

'You have to act fast, Sam. For Teal'c's sake.' He held her in his embrace a moment longer, then drew back a little. But she followed his movement, not willing to let go of the connection.

'The colonel, Daniel. We have to find him somehow. I can't leave him behind and you know it. There has to be a way for you to reach him while I find Teal'c.'

'For weeks and weeks I tried to get through to him without making waves. He's not listening. He doesn't want to remember. He's shut himself in. I don't know how to reach him.'

'You have to keep trying, Daniel. Because if anyone is able to get through to him, it's you.'

He thought of the child and its feeble attempts to open Jack's mind. And how Jack kept slamming the door on every fragment of memory leaking through. 'I don't think so, Sam. He's fighting too hard.'

'Then fight him back. You were always good at that.'

'I need to be careful.' He grew frustrated with her, irritated even.

Couldn't she see? He'd done everything he could and he'd failed. He couldn't tell her about that part Oma had taken from him, in case The Others were watching and listening, always on the look-out for wrong choices that would give them a reason to step in and punish him. Or punish those he cared for, to teach him a lesson.

'When you died, when you... ascended... He never got over that, you know? It was as though a part of him died with you. He was never the same man after you left.'

'Sam...'

'He never gave us a glimpse of how he really felt when you were gone. Oh, you know what he can be like sometimes, well, most of the time. He sucked up and went back to active duty and that was that. But I think... Daniel, I think... he loves you. And when you died his heart just... broke.'

It had to be the drug. He knew she'd never actually say it otherwise, but the drug loosened her tongue. Or maybe it was because she hadn't found back to her old self again completely. No military protocol here. No DADT.

He was tried of fighting Jack. Had been tired of it a long time before he'd ascended. Tired of dealing with the rejection, too, and having to act as though it didn't matter.

'You do, don't you? You've always loved him. Maybe it's the blue cherries, but it's so clear now. Even if I never remember this once the trip is over. Right now I can see. Oh, my god, Daniel, if you love him you know you have to help him.'

Fresh tears trickled down her pale face and Daniel had the strange feeling she was crying for him because he couldn't do it anymore.

'I know you hurt each other sometimes, but there's no stronger foundation than yours. He needs to remember, Daniel. He needs to go home with us. At least he needs to be able to make a choice about whether he wants to leave or stay.'

A real choice.

Hadn't Daniel said that to Oma not so long ago? Sam was throwing back his own reasoning at him. Reflecting his view like a mirror. What had happened to him between then and now? Had being split taken away so much of him that he'd lost perspective?

'I have to go, Sam.' He caressed her once more with his imaginary hands. 'Good luck.'

'He loves you, Daniel. We all do. We miss you so much.' Her last thoughts, before he gently drew away, were like a soothing whisper.

He faded into the night, taking her words with him like a small shimmer of hope.

*******

Sam watched Daniel leave. She was probably imagining it because of the blue cherry trip, but it seemed to her he was a bit less translucent, that his silver light shone a little brighter now.

Then nausea hit her and she stumbled away from the bowl still emitting foggy smoke. The smell hit her full force again and she pressed a hand to her mouth until she reached the house and staggered through the door.

A bucket was handed to her and she grabbed it blindly, her eyes stinging in the lit living room, and threw up. Cold sweat pooled at her temples and ran down her face. Dizziness and disorientation threatened to overwhelm her, but she was guided to the couch and gently lowered on it. A cold washcloth seemed to appear from nowhere and was placed on her forehead.

“Sleep, dear Sam, sleep. We will talk in the morning,” Jadah murmured.

“I must find Teal'c,” she groaned.

“And you will. Rest now.”

She felt her eyes drift close, but she needed to know one last thing. “Jadah... will I remember this tomorrow?”

The old woman's face swam above her and Sam only knew she was smiling because she could hear it in her voice. “Yes, Sam, you will remember all this in the morning. But you need to sleep now. The blue cherries are a very strong drug.”

She laughed at that. A very strong drug, indeed. Laughing hurt her head so she finally allowed her eyes to close and as she was on the brink of sleep her memories kept returning to her like a gentle stream of water.


	5. Resurrection Part III - Weaving Threads V

**V**

Danny was pounding his chunk of clay with both hands like Jack had instructed him earlier. They had come to the barn this morning to work on some pottery – the last batch for this season. He kept his stock of bowls and figurines small, which meant he had to create new stuff on a regular basis. But he liked working with his hands and creating new animals or different kind of jars and jugs. Making twenty or fifty look-alike bowls was just boring.

While Jack worked on the wheel he watched the kid prodding his clay and eying it from all sides. It was now flat and round like a meat patty. “Is that good, Jack?”

“Excellent. Now try to make the coil with the other clay. Remember how that goes?”

“Yeah, you showed me. And I done this before.” Danny grabbed the other clay ball and started rolling it between his hands. Then he slapped it back onto the table and continued rolling it on the wood surface. The tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips as he started to attach the coil to the bottom of his jug.

This was his third try. The first one had ended in a disaster and Jack had guided Danny's hands when he'd tried again. Together they'd created a small bowl. It was uneven and a bit wobbly, but Danny had been proud and Jack had praised his work accordingly. The second bowl had turned out much better and less lopsided.

Danny had insisted on crafting this one all alone so Jack had started the wheel to get some work done and left the kid to it.

He was a quick study. Jack was impressed as he watched the masterpiece in the making.

“My hands are so small,” Danny muttered. “Everything's lots bigger.” He smoothed out the bowl's walls with his fingers.

“You doing good there, buddy. Just keep your other hand steady on the wall so it won't collapse.”

“Can I make animals next?”

“Sure. Knock yerself out. There's enough clay to play with.”

Jack started pulling up the wall of his own jug carefully, steadily kicking the wheel's pedal. Once the walls had the desired height he slowed the wheel down and applied gentle pressure with both hands to narrow the opening, giving the jug a long neck. He worked fast and paid no attention to the kid for a moment. He widened the opening of the narrowed neck with his fingertips, then stopped the wheel and looked up to find Danny standing there, clay covered hands on his hips, watching him with bright eyes and a big smile on his chubby face.

“What?” Jack asked.

“You learned that when you were stuck in the time loop.”

“Time... loop?” Jack echoed, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

“When you had to eat all those Froot Loops and played golf through the stargate. You told me. When it was over you hated Froot Loops and had icky oat meal for a week.”

He had a glimpse of something disgusting, glob-like on a spoon and a ball being hit through that rippling pool of... whatever it was. He also got flashes of...  
  


...a chalkboard covered in squiggles and letters, the Sinner guy (Teal'c) juggling little white balls, a guy being knocked on his ass by another guy in a corridor with papers flying all about...

 

 _Daniel,_ Jack's mind insisted. _That's Daniel. And you got a kick out of seeing him knocked down several times before you took pity of him, you jerk._

He suddenly remembered dreaming about that Daniel last night, and a palace and stars. They'd kissed... No, they weren't supposed to do that. Because of the rules. He couldn't have... but he could almost taste that kiss on his lips. And more than that. Then he had a weird flash of blue paint all over his fingers. He'd drawn squiggles all over... something... and they had kissed again. He...

These were NOT his memories. Whatever there was in his head, it didn't belong to him.

Jack snatched the towel that hung over his thigh and wiped clay and water off his hands, avoiding Danny's curious eyes. “Why don'tcha go back to your clay, kiddo.”

The kid sighed as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Okay.”

Jack got up and helped him put the last touches on his bowl and then sat it on a shelf to dry enough that it could be carried outside. He made sure the kid had plenty of clay for his animals before he returned to the wheel.

Jack crafted jars, bowls and ashtrays. He relished the feel of the wet, smooth clay on his hands, the gentle rumbling of the spinning wheel, the sunrays falling through the open barn door and the dust particles dancing in the light.

This was real.

But if this was real, what about the other things he kept seeing and hearing in his mind? Even if he was going bonkers, those images had to come from somewhere, right? Somehow it was all connected to the kid. But that was ridiculous because...

Because.

Danny's busy little hands crafted turtles, dolphins, birds and camels. Jack considered pointing out that there were no camels here, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want another of those weird episodes. He'd had enough of those lately. And the camels were cute with their humps and long legs. For a boy this small Danny created surprisingly realistic-looking animals. He even scratched squiggly patterns into the turtles' backs, using a small stick Jack had given him earlier.

When Hadis arrived around noon with Thor and his youngest son, Paolo, in tow, Jack and Danny had about two dozen new goods to sell.

Hadis took a good look at the pottery. “Your boy has clever hands.”

“Yeah, he's good.”

“What is this?” Hadis' finger hovered over one of the camels with two humps.

“A camel. They live in the desert.”

“In the desert? What a vivid imagination.” Hadis smiled and shook his head, then continued, “I'd like to buy the animal batch if you're interested. I know season is closing, but I might still be able to sell more of them than you would with the beaches getting less and less visitors now.”

“Sure. Name a price. I've got leftover clay, too, if you need it.” Jack had hoped his friend would offer. Hadis threw his own pottery, but he and Masala had specialized in bowls and jugs because they were easier to create in bigger numbers. Hadis had bought animal figurines and clay from Jack before.

They bargained for a while, then shook hands and Jack promised to have everything glazed and burned by tomorrow afternoon. It was hot enough for the clay to be ready for the oven in a couple of hours.

He opened the kiln's firebox and started filling it. They kept wood and balls of hay stacked at the back of their barn. Their kiln had room for three shelves to load at once, which was big enough to meet Jack's requirements. But Hadis, who had to make larger stocks for the bazaar, kept complaining about the time consuming work due to the kiln being too small.

Hadis went into their store room, armed with a pencil and a notepad, to make an inventory of how much pottery he had left for next season. That man was always juggling numbers, calculating his wins and losses. Probably something you had to do if you were striving for a wealthy life.

Once he'd fueled the kiln for later, Jack stepped outside.

Paolo and Danny were playing chase around the pump. The bug threw himself at the older boy and they went down shrieking and laughing, then Danny jumped up and ran, Paolo hot on his heels. Hadis' son was a lot more gentle with the little one when he caught him. He grabbed him and tickled him, then let him go again.

Jack gave Thor a neck rub and tousled his mane as he watched the kids, a smile tugging at his mouth. The mule started nibbling at Jack's shirt and rubbed his big nose against his shoulder.

“Sorry, no treats. You can stop gushing.” Thor lowered his head and bumped his master's shoulder hard, to let him know what he thought of this lack of affection.

Unimpressed by the rebuke, Jack called Paolo over and asked him if he had any work to do right now.

“I think dada wants me to help watch the shop when he and Masala do inventory there,” he said, flashing Jack a wide grin. “If you have something to do for me tell me quick. Whatever it is, I'll do it.”

“Well, I don't wanna get ya into trouble with your dada there.”

“He hasn't told me to go to the shop with him, yet.” Paolo whispered. “But he sent Miral out with the goats today and took me to town. I know he wants me to sit at the shop for hours and hours to wait for customers while he and Masala count every-thing. It takes for-ever and it's bor-ing.”

Jack bit back a chuckle and nodded. “I need you to find Mikele for me.” As an afterthought, an idea that just started blossoming now, he added. “And Jorge.”

Paolo's grin turned into a scowl. “Jorge? But he's mean. What do you want with him?”

“Tell them I have a job for them. But if Jorge gives you a hard time you can tell him to forget it right away.”

Paolo snorted. “A job for Jorge? He won't even listen to me.”

Jack pulled a coin from his pocket. “Tell him I sent you.”

The coin wandered into Paolo's pants and, with a wave at Danny, he took off.

Left alone by his playmate, Danny had the great idea to climb the pump and Jack thought lunch might be a good way to keep the tyke out of trouble for a while. He plucked the kid off the pump and they washed their hands and faces which included both of them getting wet as Danny started splashing water at Jack and finding it hilariously funny when Jack growled at him to knock it off.

“It's just a little water. It won't hurt you!” Small wet hands patted Jack's knee, leaving fingerprints all over his pants.

“Nice one, kiddo. Remember that next time you're going to take a shower.” He flicked some water at Danny who ran away, chortling.

Jack pretended to chase after him and then went to wipe his hands on the old towel hanging on a nail by the barn door.

“Try to keep your hands clean until we're done eating,” he told Danny before he went inside to get the bread and summer sausage he'd brought with them along with a small bag of tomatoes and a jar of goat cream cheese he'd bought this morning. He sat on the stone bench in front of the barn, eying his knife and finding it clean. He quickly sliced bread, sausage and tomatoes, spread cheese on the bread and built two sandwiches. By the time he was done Danny had clambered onto the bench next to him.

“Isn't Thor getting any lunch, Jack?”

“Hmm, I'm sure he got a big breakfast at Hadis'.”

“But it's lunch time now, not breakfast. He sure looks hungry, don't you think?”

Jack followed Danny's gaze to the mule who looked rather lazy than hungry with his eyes on half-mast and ears loping as usual. “I think he's taking a nap. Here.” He handed Danny his sandwich. “Hold it with both hands or half of it will end up on the ground.”

Danny took his bread. “Can I ride Thor again later? Are we going back to the beach to sell stuff?”

“We have to stay here for a while. I'm hoping to find someone to do the pottery watch for us. If that works out we'll take Thor to the ruins where he can graze and you and I can play tour guides.”

“Ohhh! Can I tell people 'bout Isis? Or do we have to tell them your story 'bout Bra'tac and Homer?” A slice of tomato slipped out from between Danny's sandwich and landed in his lap.

“Eat your...” Jack started and then stopped short as he processed what the kid had just said. “How do you know about that story?”

He did the math quickly and, nope, he hadn't been back to the ruins since that night Danny had fallen from the sky.

“It's a silly story. But funny, too.”

“Yeah, I guess. Who told you about it?” Jack tried not to sound alarmed.

Danny shrugged and took a huge bite of his sandwich, chewed and swallowed. “Mmmmh, good.”

“Danny... the story? You remember where you heard it?”

“I watched you telling it to people all the time. This way and that.” Danny caught another tomato slice with his teeth and tugged until it popped out of the bread and he sucked it in like a baby bird would a worm. “My favorite is Bra'tac inventing Duff beer,” he said once he'd swallowed the tomato.

Jack thought his own bite of bread got stuck in his throat. He coughed and, for the eternity of a second, thought he was going to choke on it before it went down. _You haven't been with me until two days ago_ , he thought. _How could you possibly have watched me telling those stories?_

Maybe he had been hiding in the ruins and listening?

But Jack couldn't get himself to ask because he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. Then something else hit him and before he could bit his tongue, he asked. “Isis?”

“Isis is the Goa'uld mother of Horus. Their names are on the monolith. She left a very long time ago though. No one remembers her name anymore.”

“What's a Gould?”

Danny looked up at him, goat cream cheese smeared around his mouth and on his chin. “I could show you.”

Hadis chose that moment to step through the open barn door, carrying Thor's leather bags over one shoulder and his notepad in his hand. He looked around and sighed. “Now, where did that boy go? I need to take him to the shop with me to watch for customers while we do inventory.”

Jack welcomed the change of subject with relief. “Oh, I sent him to find someone for me.”

“Well, I didn't tell him yet, to spare me the whining about eternal boredom all the way from home to the bazaar,” Hadis muttered. “But he knows very well that I need him today.”

“Don't give him a hard time about it. I made it kinda urgent,” Jack said.

“Oh, I bet he was most pleased to get away.” But there was a twinkle in Hadis' dark eyes.

“I'll send him over when he gets back here,” Jack offered.

Hadis shoved his notepad into the pocket of his wide cotton jacket. “Tell him not to dawdle. Do you need the mule later? I have to take pottery to the shop now, but I won't need him anymore today then. However, I'd like for Raoul to take him to the fields tomorrow morning if you don't mind.”

“We'll pick him up at the shop and take him to the ruins later. We'll drop him off at your place tomorrow morning when we get back to town.”

Hadis nodded as he started attaching the bags. Thor's ears twitched and he turned his head to see who had woken him from his nap with such rudeness.

“Poor Thor,” Danny crooned. “He has to go back to work without having lunch.”

“Yes, life just isn't fair,” Jack agreed with a smirk.

Hadis snorted. “This animal is very well fed. He eats everything that crosses his way if you don't watch him closely. He's worse than the goats and they eat all day.”

“Well, he works very hard, too,” Danny said with a frown. “He has to eat lots.”

Hadis laughed and went back inside to start collecting some of his pottery from the store room.

Danny weaseled off the bench and before Jack realized what was going on, the little guy was at Thor's side and fed him what was left of his sandwich. Thor happily munched bread, tomato and sausage mush with cream cheese.

“Oh, for... Daniel!” Jack followed quickly and pulled Danny away before small fingers were sacrificed in the cause of saving the mule from starvation. “You have to be careful with that. He's going to bite off your whole hand.”

“No, he won't,” the kid said, shaking his head. “Sometimes you're really silly, Jack.”

“I am?” He wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or be offended.

“Yes. Don't you know mules are vegetarians?”

“Ah, and that's why you're feeding him sausage?” Jack waggled his eyebrows.

Danny's eyes grew big with worry. “Oh, no! I didn't think of that. He won't get sick now, will he?”

“Nooo, I don't think so. But don't feed him your lunch again. We'll take him to graze later. Why don't we help Hadis with his pottery, huh? I'm sure he could use a couple of more hands.”

“'kay, Jack!”

He made sure Danny only carried one piece of pottery at the time and none of the larger ones. But the kid was very careful and nothing broke. He handed each piece to Hadis who wrapped it into soft cloth and put it into the large bags. A while later everything was packed and secured to Thor's back and Hadis was good to go. Danny was settled on Jack's hip and Hadis put a hand on the blond head. “Thank you for your help, little man.”

“I like to help,” Danny said. “It makes people happier.”

Jack watched the change on his friend's face as it softened and the dark eyes bore an expression of mild surprise. Like Danny had given him a glimpse of something wonderful and unique. He'd seen that happening to Masala and Mania's mother. Even with Jorge. And he'd felt it himself. It wasn't anything like the weird reality-switches, but something... special, as if the kid brought the sunshine with him. Or a particularly bright light. Something that made you forget you were having a bad day. Something that lifted your spirits.

 _It's not always there_ , Jack thought, _but whenever things are right in Danny's world he seems to share his happiness with everyone._

Hadis smiled and ruffled Danny's hair. “Keep an eye on Jack so he won't get too lazy.”

The kid laughed and the spell was broken. Hadis grabbed Thor's bridle and they left the courtyard through the open gate.

Jack checked on their new pottery and since it was dry enough to be handled he decided to take it all outside to let it bake in the afternoon sun. There was a shelf set up in the yard for that purpose. Danny took his animals, one at a time, and sat them on the lower board. He seemed to almost hold his breath as he cupped his hands protectively around the clay figures.

They were just about finished when Paolo returned, accompanied by Mikele and Jorge. The younger boys were chattering and laughing, paying no attention to the glum teen in their wake.

Danny ran over and hugged Jorge's leg, catching the youngster totally off guard. “Hi! Do you wanna see my pottery?”

Jorge's face turned a flaming red and he clumsily patted Danny's head. Staring at Jack, he growled. “What do ya want, O'Neill? It better pay off or I'm outta here.”

“Well, no one's forcing you to stay, but you might want to reconsider. Payment's not bad. Just requires some of your time.”

“Maybe I'm a busy man.” Jorge scowled. “And I'm not gonna babysit for ya.” He looked down his nose at Danny. “No offense, shrimp, but babysitting is for mamas.”

“I'm not a baby,” Danny corrected with a tiny shrug and let go of Jorge's leg. “But that's okay.”

“Not a baby, huh? I'm not toddlersitting either. That's no man's work, yanno. That's woman's work.”

“Don't worry. You won't haveta watch me. That's Jack's job,” Danny said brightly. “He's just as good as a woman.”

Mikele and Paoloa exchanged an amused look, but opted not to join the discussion.

Rolling his eyes at the smirk Jorge aimed at him, Jack told Paolo he'd better get on his way to the bazaar. Hadis' son grimaced, but traipsed off to spend the rest of his day being bored to death.

Jack started to explain what he expected of the boys, what he was willing to pay and what time frame he had in mind. Mikele tried to bargain on the payment, but when Jack wouldn't budge he nodded readily to everything and said he just had to let his mama know he'd stay the evening and part of the night at the barn. “She won't mind if it means I get paid for it. I can bring the twins if she needs me to watch them.”

“Just keep them away from the fire,” Jack warned. “I'll be back tomorrow to show you how to glaze if you want to learn.” He turned to Jorge. “You in on this?”

“I don't need him,” Mikele said quickly. “I can handle things.”

Jack nodded. “I see.” He pointed at the counter. “Pick up a bowl. Carefully. Now, come with me.”

They went inside and to the back wall where the beehive shaped brick oven stood with the firebox at the bottom and a large arched chamber on top. Jack opened the upper iron door, revealing three brick shelves on the inside.

“Put it on the top shelf,” he ordered.

Mikele bit his lip as he eyed the upper shelf. He went on tip toes and, with a bit of juggling, managed to put the bowl in. He gave it a gentle shove to move it further into the oven.

“Good. But you need to stack it real tight with at least six or seven pieces on each shelf. You can barely reach up there now. So imagine this baby is firing on 200 to 400 degrees and you have to open the door and take a look up there to make sure all the vents are working and everything's in order.”

Mikele squinted up at Jack. “D'you have a step stool?”

“Sorry, no can do. You have to let Jorge help. If he's not up to it, Danny and I will stick around. I'm not going to let you do this alone.” It'd mess with his afternoon plans and the dinner date, but he'd work around that if he had to.

The freckled boy considered this and asked. “You're going to show me how to glaze? And you're going to pay me for helping with it, too? Because I won't be able to work for Ahmet or anyone else while I'm here.”

“Consider it a deal.” Jack held out his hand and Mikele shook it.

When they stepped into the afternoon sunlight again, Jorge was looking at Danny's clay animals, listening with amazing patience to the little guy's prattling about camels and other wondrous things.

He looked up, grim dark eyes meeting Jack's. “I'll do it. But only because I need money real bad right now. Don't think I'm gonna be your personal work-boy, O'Neill.”

“Yadda,” Mikele muttered under his breath.

“And don't think I'm gonna keep an eye on the ugly toad there. What do I need him for anyway?” Jorge said with one look at the other kid.

“He's gonna help you load the kiln and stoke it. The two of you can take turns with that. Has to be done every two or three hours to heat it up until it's reached top temperatures. That should happen in six to eight hours after you started firing. Then youhave to make sure the fire keeps burning to hold the heat level for another three hours. Keep an eye on the vents while it's heating up. Once it's on full heat, you close all vents but one and keep the upper door shut. All you have to do then is check the fuel and stoke when necessary.”

“It's gonna be hot!” Danny threw in. “You haveta be really careful and wear mitts when you open the doors or even get close to the kiln.”

Jack grinned. “Listen to him, he’s got it covered.”

He motioned at the boys to follow him and gave them a quick run down of how to work with the kiln, how to check the thermostat and how much fuel to add.

“What makes you think he won't blow the whole thing up?” Mikele asked at one point, giving Jorge a nasty glare. “Just because he's too stupid to light a match.”

“I've worked with kilns before,” Jorge said dismissively. “You don't have to worry your carrot-head off. At the docks they use kilns to fuse ship parts. They're just bigger. Not this kind of tiny.”

“There you go,” Jack said with a warning look for Mikele. He knew the kid had been the victim of Jorge's bullying before, but he expected both of them to keep their act together while they were working side by side.

Frankly, now that he thought about it he wasn't sure what had compelled him to stick these two into the same room to share a job. It was a really stupid idea. What the hell had gotten into him to even consider this?

Well, he'd made his bed... “You can go and finish whatever you were doing before Paolo dragged you here. The clay needs three or four more hours of drying outside before you have to load the kiln and start heating it up. There's a clock on the work counter so you have a time frame to work with.” He frowned. “You can read the clock, right?”

Jorge stared grimly at him. “Had to read the time when I worked at the docks last winter.”

Mikele's eyes widened. “Really? Can you show me?”

“If you manage not to be a total idiot, I guess.”

“It's like a cave in here!”

They all turned to look at the kiln and Jack suppressed a sigh. “Danny... what'cha doing in there?”

The kid had managed to crawl into the oven and squeezed himself between the two lower shelves. Years of old ash rippled onto him from the sooty blackened walls. “I can go and 'splore all kinds of really small places now!” Danny's voice sounded hollow and then he sneezed. “You need to clean it, Jack!”

“Thank you, Danny, I'll keep that in mind. Now unless you want to get all hot and toasty, I'd say you get out of there ASAP.”

“What's A S A P mean?” Mikele asked, confused.

“As soon as possible,” Jack replied absently. “It's a military term. Danny, get out of there now.... Oh, for heaven's sake, look at you...”

What came out of the oven looked like a mini Black Ops soldier with camouflage paint on his face and in his hair and all over his formerly pumpkin-colored shirt and green pants. He sneezed again and a little ash cloud arose from his shirt.

“I knew you are a military type,” Jorge said triumphantly. “I bet you served with the Armed Forces when you were less ancient.”

“Jack served with the Air Force,” Danny said, rubbing soot from his cheeks. “He's a colonel and he's really into people following his orders.”

“Which you never...” Jack began and trailed off. Suddenly the barn, the kids, the oven and the smell of clay and dust seemed to become thin and fragile like it was all just a thin layer of paint on a canvas. And if he'd tear it apart, if he stepped through it, he...

Danny sneezed again.

Jorge and Mikele started laughing and the world around him stabilized again. Jack shook himself out of it and shooed them away, telling them not to come back too late.

He just hoped he hadn't made a mistake in trusting Jorge with his pottery.

 


End file.
